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From the JDeep Woods 
to Civilization 








Copyright, 1916, 

All rights reserved 
Published, September, 1916 


Set up and electrotyped by J. S. Gushing Co., Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 
Presswork by S. J. Parkhill & Co., Boston, Mass., U.S.A. 


"INDIAN BOYHOOD," published first in 
1902 and in many subsequent editions, pic 
tures the first of three distinct periods in the 
life of the writer of this book. His child 
hood and youth were a part of the free wilder 
ness life of the first American a life that is 
gone forever ! By dint of much persuasion, 
the story has now been carried on from the 
point of that plunge into the unknown with 
which the first book ends, a change so abrupt 
and so overwhelming that the boy of fifteen 
"felt as if he were dead and travelling to 
the spirit land." We are now to hear of a 
single-hearted quest throughout eighteen 
years of adolescence and early maturity, 
for the attainment of the modern ideal of 
Christian culture : and again of a quarter 
of a century devoted to testing that hard- 
won standard in various fields of endeavor, 


partly by holding it up before his own race, 
and partly by interpreting their racial ideals 
to the white man, leading in the end to a 
partial reaction in favor of the earlier, the 
simpler, perhaps the more spiritual philos 
ophy. It is clearly impossible to tell the 
whole story, but much that cannot be told 
may be read "between the lines." The 
broad outlines, the salient features of an 
uncommon experience are here set forth in 
the hope that they may strengthen for some 
readers the conception of our common 


E. G. E. 




I THE WAY OPENS ..... 1 









TISED ....... 136 


XI BACK TO THE WOODS . . . .166 




Charles A. Eastman (Ohiyesa). Frontispiece in 


Many Lightnings. English name, Jacob 
Eastman. From an old daguerreotype 
of Dr. Eastman s father ... 6 

Typical Indian log cabin, such as Dr. East 
man s father lived in at Flandreau, 
Dakota Territory . . . .16 

At home in the wilderness. A group of 

Indian teepees 16 

Santee Normal Training School, Santee, 

Nebraska, as it looks to-day . . 32 

Rev. Alfred L. Riggs, Superintendent Santee 

Training School 40 

Part of Class of 87, Dartmouth College, 
after a "Rush." Eastman in centre, 

front 66 


List of Illustrations 


Mrs. Frank Wood, of Boston; Eastman s 

"White Mother" .... 72 

Eastman at Knox College, 1880 . . 76 

Eastman in 1890, when he took his medical 

degree at Boston University . . 76 

Chapel of the Holy Cross, Pine Ridge 
Agency, used as hospital for wounded 
Indians during the "Ghost Dance 
War" 80 

Pine Ridge Agency, 1890 .... 80 

Mato-wa-nahtaka (Kicking Bear), High 
Priest of the "Messiah Craze," 1890- 
91 100 

Elaine Goodale Eastman . . . .126 
Ohiyesa the Second, at five years of age, 1903 152 

With guide and bark canoe, on Rainy Lake, 

Ontario 176 

UNIV. or 




ONE can never be sure of what a day may 
bring to pass. At the age of fifteen 
years, the deepening current of my life 
swung upon such a pivotal day, and in the 
twinkling of an eye its whole course was 
utterly changed; as if a little mountain 
brook should pause and turn upon itself to 
gather strength for the long journey toward 
an unknown ocean. 

From childhood I was consciously trained 
to be a man ; that was, after all, the basic 
thing; but after this I was^jtrained_to be a 
warrior and a hunter, and not to care for 
money or possessions, but to be in the broad 
est sense a public servant. After arriving 

*""-> -... -*-**" i 


Frdnt ifie* Deep Woods to Civilization 

at a reverent sense of the pervading presence 
of the Spirit and Giver of Life, and a deep 
consciousness of the brotherhood of man, the 
first thing for me to accomplish was to adapt 
myself perfectly to natural things in other 
words, to harmonize myself with nature. 
To this end I was made to build a body both 
symmetrical and enduring a house for 
the soul to live in a sturdy house, defying 
the elements. I must have faith and pa 
tience ; I must learn self-control and be able 
to maintain silence. I must do with as 
little as possible and start with nothing most 
, of the time, because a true Indian always 
shares whatever he may possess. 

I felt no hatred for our tribal foes. I 
looked upon them more as the college athlete 
regards his rivals from another college. 
There was no thought of destroying a nation, 
taking away their country or reducing the 
people to servitude, for my race rather 
honored and bestowed gifts upon their 
enemies at the next peaceful meeting, until 
they had adopted the usages of the white 
man s warfare for spoliation and conquest. 
There was one unfortunate thing about 

The Way Opens 

my early training, however; that is, I wasv* 
taught never to spare a citizen of the United 
States, although we were on friendly terms 
with the Canadian white men. The explana 
tion is simple. My people had been turned 
out of some of the finest country in the world, 
now forming the great states of Minnesota 
and Iowa. The Americans pretended to 
buy the land at ten cents an acre, but never 
paid the price; the debt stands unpaid to 
this day. Because they did not pay, the 
Sioux protested; finally came the outbreak 
of 1862 in Minnesota, when many settlers 
were killed, and forthwith our people, such 
as were left alive, were driven by the troops 
into exile. 

My father, who was among the fugitives 
in Canada, had been betrayed by a half- 
breed across the United States line, near 
what is now the city of Winnipeg. Some of 
the party were hanged at Fort Snelling, near 
St. Paul. We supposed, and, in fact, we were 
informed that all were hanged. This was 
why my uncle, in whose family I lived, had 
taught me never to spare a white man from 
the United States. 


From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

During the summer and winter of 1871, 
the band of Sioux to which I belonged a 
clan of the Wah petons, or "Dwellers among 
the Leaves" - roamed in the upper Missouri 
region and along the Yellowstone River. 
In that year I tasted to the full the joy and 
plenty of wild existence. I saw buffalo, 
elk, and antelope in herds numbering thou 
sands. The forests teemed with deer, and 
in the "Bad Lands" dwelt the Big Horns 
or Rocky Mountain sheep. At this period, 
grizzly bears were numerous and were 
brought into camp quite commonly, like 
any other game. 

We frequently met and camped with the 
Hudson Bay half-breeds in their summer 
hunt of the buffalo, and we were on terms of 
friendship with the Assiniboines and the 
Crees, but in frequent collision with the 
Blackfeet, the Gros Ventres, and the Crows. 
However, there were times of truce when 
all met in peace for a great midsummer 
festival and exchange of gifts. The Sioux 
roamed over an area nearly a thousand 
miles in extent. In the summer we gathered 
together in large numbers, but towards fall 

The Way Opens 

we would divide into small groups or bands 
and scatter for the trapping and the winter 
hunt. Most of us hugged the wooded river 
bottoms; some depended entirely upon 
the buffalo for food, while others, and among 
these my immediate kindred, hunted all 
kinds of game, and trapped and fished as 

Thus I was trained thoroughly for an all- 
round out-door life and for all natural 
emergencies. I was a good rider and a good 
shot with the bow and arrow, alert and alive 
to everything that came within my ken. 
I had never known nor ever expected to 
know any life but this. 

In the winter and summer of 1872, we 
drifted toward the southern part of what is 
now Manitoba. In this wild, rolling country 
I rapidly matured, and laid, as I supposed, 
the foundations of my life career, never 
dreaming of anything beyond this manful 
and honest, unhampered existence. My 
horse and my dog were my closest compan 
ions. I regarded them as brothers, and if 
there was a hereafter, I expected to meet 
them there. With them I went out daily 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

into the wilderness to seek inspiration and 
store up strength for coming manhood. 
My teachers dreamed no more than I of any 
change in my prospects. I had now taken 
part in all our tribal activities except that 
of war, and was nearly old enough to be 
initiated into the ritual of the war-path. 
The world was full of natural rivalry; I 
was eager for the day. 

I had attained the age of fifteen years and 
was about to enter into and realize a man s 
life, as we Indians understood it, when the 
change came. One fine September morning 
as I returned from the daily hunt, there 
seemed to be an unusual stir and excitement 
as I approached our camp. My faithful 
grandmother was on the watch and met me 
to break the news. "Your father has come 
- he whom we thought dead at the hands 
of the white men," she said. 

It was a day of miracle in the deep Cana 
dian wilderness, before the Canadian Pacific 
had been even dreamed of, while the Indian 
and the buffalo still held sway over the vast 
plains of Manitoba east of the Rocky Moun 
tains. It was, perhaps, because he was my 




The Way Opens 

honored father that I lent my bewildered ear 
to his eloquent exposition of the so^callg^L r 
civilized life, or the way of the white man. 
I could not doubt my own father, so myste 
riously come back to us, as it were, from the 
spirit land ; yet there was a voice within 
saying to me, "A false life! a treacherous 

In accordance with my training, I asked 
few questions, although many arose in my 
mind. I simply tried silently to fit the new 
ideas like so many blocks into the pattern of 
my philosophy, while according to my un 
tutored logic some did not seem to have 
straight sides or square corners to fit in with 
the cardinal principles of eternal justice. 
My father had been converted by Protestant 
missionaries, and he gave me a totally new 
vision of the white man, as a religious man 
and a kindly. But when he Tetated how 
he had set apart every seventh day for reli 
gious duties and the worship of God, laying 
aside every other occupation on that day, I 
could not forbear exclaiming, "Father! and 
does he then forget God during the six days 
and do as he pleases?" >^ 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

"Our own life, I will admit, is the best in 
a world of our own, such as we have enjoyed 
for ages," said my father. "But here is a 
race which has learned to weigh and measure 
everything, time and labor and the results 
of labor, and has learned to accumulate and 
preserve both wealth and the records of 
experience for future generations. You your 
selves know and use some of the wonderful 
inventions of the white man, such as guns and 
gunpowder, knives and hatchets, garments 
of every description, and there are thousands 
of other things both beautiful and useful. 

"Above all, they have their Great Teacher, 
whom they call Jesus, and he taught them 
to pas^ on their wisdom and knowledge to 
all other races. It is true that they have 
subdued and taught many peoples, and our 
own must eventually bow to this law; the 
^sooner we accept their mode of life and follow 
their teaching, the better it will be for us all. 
I have thought much on this matter and such 
is my conclusion." 

There was a mingling of admiration and 
indignation in my mind as I listened. My 
father s two brothers were still far from being 

The Way Opens 

convinced ; but filial duty and affection over- 
weighed all my prejudices. I was bound 
to go back with him as he desired me to do, 
and my grandmother and her only daughter 
accompanied us on the perilous journey. 

The line between Canada and the United 
States was closely watched at this time by 
hostile Indians, therefore my father thought 
it best to make a dash for Devil s Lake, in 
North Dakota, where he could get assistance 
if necessary. He knew Major Forbes, who 
was in command of the military post and the 
agency. Our guide we knew to be an un 
scrupulous man, who could easily betray us 
for a kettle of whisky or a pony. One of the 
first things I observed was my father s 
reading aloud from a book every morning 
and evening, followed by a very strange song 
and a prayer. Although all he said was in 
Indian, I did not understand it fully. He 
apparently talked aloud to the "Great 
Mystery", asking for our safe guidance back 
to his home in the States. The first reading 
of this book of which I have any recollection 
was the twenty-third Psalm, and the first 
hymn he sang in my presence was to the old 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

tune of Ortonville. It was his Christian 
faith and devotion which was perhaps the 
strongest influence toward my change of 
heart and complete change of my purpose 
in life. 

I think it was at our second encampment 
that we met a large caravan of Canadian 
half-breeds accompanied by a band of North 
ern Ojibways. As was usual with the former, 
they had plenty of whisky. They were 
friendly enough with us, at least while sober, 
but the Indians were not. Father showed 
them his papers as a United States citizen 
and a letter from Major Forbes, telling of his 
peaceful mission, but we could not trust 
our ancestral enemies, the Ojibways, espe 
cially when excited with strong drink. My 
father was calm and diplomatic throughout, 
but thus privately instructed me : 

"My son, conceal yourself in the woods; 
and if the worst comes you must flee on your 
swift pony. Before daylight you can pass 
the deep woods and cross the Assiniboine 
River." He handed me a letter to Major 
Forbes. I said, "I will try," and as soon as 
it was dark, I hid myself, to be in readiness. 

The Way Opens 

Meanwhile, my father called the leading 
half-breeds together and told them again that 
he was under the protection of his govern 
ment, also that the Sioux would hold them 
responsible if anything happened to us. Just 
then they discovered that another young 
brave and I were not to be found, which 
made them think that father had dispatched 
us to the nearest military post for help. 
They immediately led away their drunken 
comrades and made a big talk to their O jib- 
way friends, so that we remained undisturbed 
until morning. 

Some days later, at the south end of Devil s 
Lake, I left our camp early to shoot some 
ducks when the morning flight should begin. 
Suddenly, when out of sight of the others, 
my eye caught a slight movement in the rank 
grass. Instinctively I dropped and flattened 
myself upon the ground, but soon a quick 
glance behind me showed plainly the head 
of a brave hidden behind a bush. I waited, 
trying to figure out some plan of escape, yet 
facing the probability that I was already sur 
rounded, until I caught sight of another head 
almost in front and still another to my left. 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

In the moments that elapsed after I fully 
realized my situation, I thought of almost 
everything that had happened to me up to 
that day; of a remarkable escape from the 
Ojibways, of the wild pets I had had, and 
of my playmates in the Canadian camps 
whom I should never see again. I also 
thought with more curiosity than fear of the 
" Great Mystery" that I was so soon to enter. 
As these thoughts were passing through my 
mind, I carelessly moved and showed myself 
plainly to the enemy. 

Suddenly, from behind the nearest bush, 
came the sound of my own Sioux tongue and 
the words, "Are you a Sioux ? " Possibly my 
countenance may not have changed much, 
but certainly I grew weak with surprise and 
relief. As soon as I answered "Yes!" I 
was surrounded by a group of warriors of my 
tribe, who chuckled at the joke that had come 
so near to costing me my life, for one of them 
explained that he had been on the point of 
firing when I exposed myself so plainly that 
he saw I was not an O jib way in war paint 
but probably a Sioux like himself. 

After a variety of adventures, we arrived 

The Way Opens 

at the canvas city of Jamestown, then the 
terminal point of the Northern Pacific rail 
road. I was out watering the ponies when a 
terrific peal of thunder burst from a spotless 
blue sky, and indeed seemed to me to be 
running along the surface of the ground. 
The terrified ponies instantly stampeded, 
and I confess I was not far behind them, when 
a monster with one fiery eye poked his head 
around a corner of the hill. When we reached 
camp, my father kindly explained, and I was 
greatly relieved. 

It was a peaceful Indian summer day when 
we reached Flandreau, in Dakota Territory, 
the citizen Indian settlement, and found the 
whole community gathered together to con 
gratulate and welcome us home. 




T T was less than a month since I had been a 
rover and a hunter in the Manitoba wil 
derness, with no thoughts save those which 
concern the most free and natural life of an 
Indian. Now, I found myself standing near 
a rude log cabin on the edge of a narrow 
strip of timber, overlooking the fertile basin 
of the Big Sioux River. As I gazed over the 
rolling prairie land, all I could see was that 
it met the sky at the horizon line. It seemed 
to me vast and vague and endless, as was my 
conception of the new trail which I had taken 
and my dream of the far-off goal. 

My father s farm of 160 acres, which he had 
taken up and improved under the United 
States homestead laws, lay along the north 
bank of the river. The nearest neighbor 
lived a mile away, and all had flourishing 
fields of wheat, Indian corn and potatoes. 

My First School Days 

Some two miles distant, where the Big Sioux 
doubled upon itself in a swinging loop, rose 
the mission church and schoolhouse, the only 
frame building within forty miles. 

Our herd of ponies was loose upon the 
prairie, and it was my first task each morning 
to bring them into the log corral. On this 
particular morning I lingered, finding some 
of them, like myself, who loved their freedom 
too well and would not come in. 

The man who had built the cabin it was 
his first house, and therefore he was proud of it 
was tall and manly looking. He stood in 
front of his pioneer home with a resolute face. 

He had been accustomed to the buffalo- 
skin teepee all his life, until he opposed the 
white man and was defeated and made a 
prisoner of war at Davenport, Iowa. It was 
because of his meditations during those four 
years in a military prison that he had severed 
himself from his tribe and taken up a home 
stead. He declared that he would never join 
in another Indian outbreak, but would work 
with his hands for the rest of his life. 

"I have hunted every day," he said, "for 
the support of my family. I sometimes chase 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

the deer all day. One must work, and work 
hard, whether chasing the deer or planting 
corn. After all, the corn-planting is the 
surer provision." 

These were my father s new views, and in 
this radical change of life he had persuaded 
a few other families to join him. They 
formed a little colony at Flandreau, on the 
Big Sioux River. 

To be sure, his beginnings in civilization 
had not been attended with all the success 
that he had hoped for. One year the crops 
had been devoured by grasshoppers, and 
another year ruined by drought. But he was 
still satisfied that there was no alternative 
for the Indian. He was now anxious to have 
his boys learn the English language and some 
thing about books, for he could see that 
these were the "bow and arrows" of the 
white man. 

"O-hee-ye-sa!" called my father, and I 
obeyed the call. "It is time for you to go to 
school, my son," he said, with his usual air of 
decision. We had spoken of the matter 
more than once, yet it seemed hard when it 
came to the actual undertaking. 



My First School Days 

I remember quite well how I felt as I 
stood there with eyes fixed upon the 

"And what am I to do at the school?" 
I asked finally, with much embarrassment. 

"You will be taught the language of the 
white man, and also how to count your money 
and tell the prices of your horses and of your 
furs. The white teacher will first teach 
you the signs by which you can make out the 
words on their books. They call them A, 
B, C, and so forth. Old as I am, I have 
learned some of them." 

The matter having been thus far explained, 
I was soon on my way to the little mission 
school, two miles distant over the prairie. 
There was no clear idea in my mind as to 
what I had to do, but as I galloped along 
the road I turned over and over what 
my father had said, and the more I thought 
of it the less I was satisfied. Finally I said 
aloud : 

"Why do we need a sign language, when 
we can both hear and talk?" And uncon 
sciously I pulled on the lariat and the pony 
came to a stop. I suppose I was half curious 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

and half in dread about this "learning white 
men s ways." Meanwhile the pony had 
begun to graze. 

While thus absorbed in thought, I was 
suddenly startled by the yells of two other 
Indian boys and the noise of their ponies 
hoofs. I pulled the pony s head up just as 
the two strangers also pulled up and stopped 
their panting ponies at my side. They 
stared at me for a minute, while I looked at 
them out of the corners of my eyes. 

"Where are you going? Are you going 
to our school?" volunteered one of the boys 
at last. 

To this I replied timidly: "My father 
told me to go to a place where the white 
men s ways are taught, and to learn the 
sign language." 

"That s good we are going there too! 
Come on, Red Feather, let s try another race ! 
I think, if we had not stopped, my pony 
would have outrun yours. Will you race 
with us?" he continued, addressing me; and 
we all started our ponies at full speed. 

I soon saw that the two strange boys were 
riding erect and soldier-like. "That must 

My First School Days 

be because they have been taught to be like 
the white man," I thought. I allowed my 
pony a free start and leaned forward until 
the animal drew deep breaths, then I slid 
back and laid my head against the pony s 
shoulder, at the same time raising my quirt, 
and he leaped forward with a will ! I yelled 
as I passed the other boys, and pulled up 
when I reached the crossing. The others 
stopped, too, and surveyed pony and rider 
from head to foot, as if they had never seen us 

"You have a fast pony. Did you bring 
him back with you from Canada?" Red 
Feather asked. "I think you are the son of 
Many Lightnings, whom he brought home 
the other day," the boy added. 

"Yes, this is my own pony. My uncle 
in Canada always used him to chase the 
buffalo, and he has ridden him in many 
battles." I spoke with considerable pride. 

"Well, as there are no more buffalo to 
chase now, your pony will have to pull the 
plow like the rest. But if you ride him to 
school, you can join in the races. On the 
holy days the young men race horses, too." 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

Red Feather and White Fish spoke both 
together, while I listened attentively, for 
everything was strange to me. 

"What do you mean by the holy days ?" 
I asked. 

"Well, that s another of the white people s 
customs. Every seventh day they call a 
holy day , and on that day they go to a 
Holy House , where they pray to their Great 
Mystery. They also say that no one should 
work on that day." 

This definition of Sunday and church- 
going set me to thinking again, for I never 
knew before that there was any difference 
in the days. 

"But how do you count the days, and how 
do you know what day to begin with?" I 

"Oh, that s easy! The white men have 
everything in their books. They know how 
many days in a year, and they have even 
divided the day itself into so many equal 
parts ; in fact, they have divided them again 
and again until they know how many times 
one can breathe in a day," said White Fish, 
with the air of a learned man. 

My First School Days 

"That s impossible," I thought, so I 
shook my head. 

By this time we had reached the second 
crossing of the river, on whose bank stood the 
little mission school. Thirty or forty Indian 
children stood about, curiously watching the 
newcomer as we came up the steep bank. 
I realized for the first time that I was an 
object of curiosity, and it was not a pleasant 
feeling. On the other hand, I was consider 
ably interested in the strange appearance of 
these school-children. 

They all had on some apology for white 
man s clothing, but their pantaloons belonged 
neither to the order short nor to the long. 
Their coats, some of them, met only half 
way by the help of long strings. Others 
were lapped over in front, and held on by a 
string of some sort fastened round the body. 
Some of their hats were brimless and others 
without crowns, while most were fantastically 
painted. The hair of all the boys was cut 
short, and, in spite of the evidences of great 
effort to keep it down, it stood erect like 
porcupine quills. I thought, as I stood on 
one side and took a careful observation of the 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

motley gathering, that if I had to look like 
these boys in order to obtain something of the 
white man s learning, it was time for me to 

The boys played ball and various other 
games, but I tied my pony to a tree and then 
walked up to the schoolhouse and stood 
there as still as if I had been glued to the wall. 
Presently the teacher came out and rang a 
bell, and all the children went in, but I waited 
for some time before entering, and then slid 
inside and took the seat nearest the door. 
I felt singularly out of place, and for the 
twentieth time wished my father had not 
sent me. 

When the teacher spoke to me, I had not 
the slightest idea what he meant, so I did not 
trouble myself to make any demonstration, 
for fear of giving offense. Finally he asked 
in broken Sioux: "What is your name?" 
Evidently he had not been among the Indians 
long, or he would not have asked that ques 
tion. It takes a tactician and a diplomat to 
get an Indian to tell his name ! The poor 
man was compelled to give up the attempt 
and resume his seat on the platform. 

My First School Days 

He then gave some unintelligible directions, 
and, to my great surprise, the pupils in turn 
held their books open and talked the talk of a 
strange people. Afterward the teacher made 
some curious signs upon a blackboard on the 
wall, and seemed to ask the children to read 
them. To me they did not compare in inter 
est with my bird s-track and fish-fin studies 
on the sands. I was something like a wild 
cub caught overnight, and appearing in the 
corral next morning with the lambs. I had 
seen nothing thus far to prove to me the good 
of civilization. 

Meanwhile the children grew more familiar, 
and whispered references were made to the 
"new boy s" personal appearance. At last 
he was called "Baby" by one of the big boys ; 
but this was not meant for him to hear, so he 
did not care to hear. He rose silently and 
walked out. He did not dare to do or say 
anything in departing. The boys watched 
him as he led his pony to the river to drink 
and then jumped upon his back and started 
for home at a good pace. They cheered as 
he started over the hills : "Hoo-oo ! hoo-oo ! 
there goes the long-haired boy !" 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

When I was well out of sight of the school, 
I pulled in my pony and made him walk 
slowly home. 

"Will going to that place make a man 
brave and strong?" I asked myself. "I 
must tell my father that I cannot stay here. 
I must go back to my uncle in Canada, who 
taught me to hunt and shoot and to be a 
brave man. They might as well try to make 
a buffalo build houses like a beaver as to 
teach me to be a white man," I thought. 

It was growing late when at last I appeared 
at the cabin. "Why, what is the matter?" 
quoth my old grandmother, who had taken 
especial pride in me as a promising young 
hunter. Really, my face had assumed a look 
of distress and mental pressure that frightened 
the superstitious old woman. She held her 
peace, however, until my father returned. 

"Ah," she said then, "I never fully believed 
in these new manners ! The Great Mystery 
cannot make a mistake. I say it is against 
our religion to change the customs that have 
been practiced by our people ages back - 
so far back that no one can remember it. 
Many of the school-children have died, you 

My First School Days 

have told me. It is not strange. You have 
offended Him, because you have made these 
children change the ways he has given us. 
I must know more about this matter before 
I give my consent . Grandmother had opened 
her mind in unmistakable terms, and the 
whole family was listening to her in silence. 

Then my hard-headed father broke the 
pause. "Here is one Sioux who will sacrifice 
everything to win the wisdom of the white 
man ! We have now entered upon this life, 
and there is no going back. Besides, one 
would be like a hobbled pony without 
learning to live like those among whom we 
must live." 

During father s speech my eyes had been 
fixed upon the burning logs that stood on 
end in the huge mud chimney in a corner of 
the cabin. I didn t want to go to that 
place again; but father s logic was too 
strong for me, and the next morning I 
had my long hair cut, and started in to 
school in earnest. 

I obeyed my father s wishes, and went 
regularly to the little day-school, but as yet 
my mind was in darkness. What has all this 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

talk of books to do with hunting, or even 
with planting corn? I thought. The sub 
ject occupied my thoughts more and more, 
doubtless owing to my father s decided posi 
tion on the matter ; while, on the other hand, 
my grandmother s view of this new life was 
not encouraging. 

I took the situation seriously enough, and 
I remember \ went with it where all my people 
go when they want light into the thick 
woods. I needed counsel, and human counsel 
did not satisfy me. I had been taught to 
seek the "Great Mystery" in silence, in the 
deep forest or on the height of the mountain. 
There were no mountains here, so I retired 
into the woods. I knew nothing of the white 
man s religion ; I only followed the teaching 
of my ancestors. 

When I came back, my heart was strong. 
I desired to follow the new trail to the end. 
I knew that, like the little brook, it must lead 
to larger and larger ones until it became a 
resistless river, and I shivered to think of it. 
But again I recalled the teachings of my 
people, and determined to imitate their 
undaunted bravery and stoic resignation. 

My First School Days 

However, I was far from having realized 
the long, tedious years of study and confine 
ment before I could begin to achieve what I 
had planned. 

"You must not fear to work with your 
hands," said my father, "but if you are able 
to think strongly and well, that will be a 
quiver full of arrows for you, my son. All 
of the white man s children must go to school, 
but those who study best and longest need not 
work with their hands after that, for they 
can work with their minds. You may plow 
the five acres next the river, and see if you 
can make a straight furrow as well as a 
straight shot." 

I set to work with the heavy breaking- 
plow and yoke of oxen, but I am sorry to 
admit that the work was poorly done. "It 
will be better for you to go away to a higher 
school," advised my father. 

It appears remarkable to me now that 
my father, thorough Indian as he was, 
should have had such deep and sound con 
ceptions of a true civilization. But there 
is the contrast my father s mother ! whose 
faith in her people s philosophy and training 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

could not be superseded by any other alle 

To her such a life as we lead to-day would 
be no less than sacrilege. "It is not a true 
life," she often said. " It is a sham. I cannot 
bear to see my boy live a made-up life !" 

Ah, grandmother ! you had forgotten one 
of the first principles of your own teaching, 
namely: "When you see a new trail, or a 
footprint that you do not know, follow it to 
the point of knowing." 

"All I want to say to you," the old grand 
mother seems to answer, "is this: Do not 
get lost on this new trail." 

"I find," said my father to me, "that the 
white man has a well-grounded religion, and 
teaches his children the same virtues that 
our people taught to theirs. The Great 
Mystery has shown to the red and white 
man alike the good and evil, from which to 
choose. I think the way of the white man is 
better than ours, because he is able to pre 
serve on paper the things he does not want to 
forget. He records everything the sayings 
of his wise men, the laws enacted by his 


My First School Days 

I began to be really interested in this 
curious scheme of living that my father was 
gradually unfolding to me out of his limited 

"The way of knowledge," he continued, 
"is like our old way in hunting. You begin 
with a mere trail a footprint. If you 
follow that faithfully, it may lead you to a 
clearer trail a track a road. Later on 
there will be many tracks, crossing and 
diverging one from the other. Then you 
must be careful, for success lies in the choice 
of the right road. You must be doubly care 
ful, for traps will be laid for you, of which 
the most dangerous is the spirit-water, that 
causes a man to forget his self-respect," 
he added, unwittingly giving to his aged 
mother material for her argument against 

The general effect upon me of these dis 
cussions, which were logical enough on the 
whole, although almost entirely from the 
outside, was that I became convinced that 
my father was right. 

My grandmother had to yield at last, and 
it was settled that I was to go to school at 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

Santee agency, Nebraska, where Dr. Alfred 
L. Riggs was then fairly started in the work 
of his great mission school, which has turned 
out some of the best educated Sioux Indians. 
It was at that time the Mecca of the Sioux 
country ; even though Sitting Bull and Crazy 
Horse were still at large, harassing soldiers 
and emigrants alike, and General Custer had 
just been placed in military command of the 
Dakota Territory. 




TT was in the fall of 1874 that I started 
* from Flandreau, then only an Indian 
settlement, with a good neighbor of ours 
on his way to Santee. There were only a 
dozen houses or so at Sioux Falls, and the 
whole country was practically uninhabited, 
when we embarked in a home-made prairie 
schooner, on that bright September morning. 

I had still my Hudson Bay flintlock 
gun, which I had brought down with me 
from Canada the year before. I took that 
old companion, with my shot-pouch and a 
well-filled powder-horn. All I had besides 
was a blanket, and an extra shirt. I wore 
my hunting suit, which was a compromise 
between Indian attire and a frontiersman s 
outfit. I was about sixteen years old and 
small of my age. 

"Remember, my boy, it is the same as if 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

I sent you on your first war-path. I shall 
expect you to conquer," was my father s 
farewell. My good grandmother, who had 
brought me up as a motherless child, be 
stowed upon me her blessing. "Always 
remember," said she, "that the Great 
Mystery is good; evil can come only from 
ourselves!" Thus I parted with my first 
teacher the woman who taught me to 

Our first night out was at Hole-in-the-Hill, 
one of the most picturesque spots in the 
valley. Here I brought in a doe, which I 
had come upon in the tall grass of the river 
bottom. Peter shot several ducks, and we 
had a good supper. It seemed to me more 
like one of our regular fall hunts than like 
going away to school. 

After supper I said, "I am going to set 
some of your traps, uncle." 

"And I will go with you," replied Peter. 
"But before we go, we must have our 
prayer," and he took out his Bible and 
hymn-book printed in the Indian tongue. 

It was all odd enough to me, for although 
my father did the same, I had not yet become 



a 6 

On the White Man s Trail 

thoroughly used to such things. Neverthe 
less, it was the new era for the Indian ; and 
while we were still seated on the ground 
around the central fire of the Sioux teepee, 
and had just finished our repast of wild game, 
Peter read from the good book, and per 
formed the devotional exercises of his teepee 
home, with quite as much zeal as if he were 
within four walls and surrounded by civilized 
things. I was very much impressed when 
this primitive Christian prayed that I might 
succeed in my new undertaking. 

The next morning was frosty, and after 
an early breakfast we hurried to our traps. 
I got two fine minks and a beaver for my 
trouble, while Peter came home smiling 
with two otters and three beaver. I saw 
that he had something on his mind, but, 
like a true Indian, I held my peace. At 
last he broke the news to me he had 
changed his mind about going to Santee 
agency ! 

I did not blame him it was hard to 

leave such a trapper s paradise as this, 

alive with signs of otter, mink, and beaver. 

I said nothing, but thought swiftly. The 


From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

temptation was strong to remain and trap 
too. That would please my grandmother; 
and I will confess here that no lover is more 
keen to do the right thing for the loved one 
than I was at that time to please my old 

The thought of my father s wish kept 
me on my true course. Leaving my gun 
with Peter, I took my blanket on my back 
and started for the Missouri on foot. 

"Tell my father," I said, "that I shall 
not return until I finish my war-path." 

But the voice of the waterfall, near 
what is now the city of Sioux Falls, sounded 
like the spirits of woods and water crying 
for their lost playmate, and I thought for a 
moment of turning back to Canada, there 
to regain my freedom and wild life. Still, 
I had sent word to my father that this war 
path should be completed, and I remembered 
how he had said that if I did not return, he 
would shed proud tears. 

About this time I did some of the hardest 

thinking that I have ever done in my life. 

All day I traveled, and did not see any one 

until, late in the afternoon, descending into 


On the White Man s Trail 

the valley of a stream, I came suddenly 
upon a solitary farm-house of sod, and was 
met by a white man a man with much 
hair on his face. 

I was hungry and thirsty as a moose in 
burned timber. I had some money that my 
father had given me I hardly knew the 
different denominations ; so I showed the 
man all of it, and told him by signs that he 
might take what he pleased if only he would 
let me have something to eat, and a little 
food to carry with me. As for lodging, I 
would not have slept in his house if he had 
promised me a war-bonnet ! 

While he was cordial at any rate, 
after I exhibited my money there was 
something about his manner that did not 
put me at my ease, and my wild instincts 
told me to keep an eye on him. But I was 
not alone in this policy, for his flock of four 
daughters and a son nearly put their necks 
out of joint in following my modest, shy 

When they invited me to sit down with 
them at the table, I felt uncomfortable, 
but hunger was stronger than my fears 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

and modesty. The climax came when I 
took my seat on a rickety stool between the 
big, hairy man and one of his well-grown 
daughters. I felt not unlike a young blue 
heron just leaving the nest to partake of 
his first meal on an unsafe, swinging branch. 
I was entirely uncertain of my perch. 

All at once, without warning, the man 
struck the table with the butt of his knife 
with such force that I jumped and w r as 
within an ace of giving a war-whoop. In 
spite of their taking a firm hold of the 
home-made table to keep it steady, the 
dishes were quivering, and the young ladies 
no longer able to maintain their composure. 
Severe glances from mother and father soon 
brought us calm, when it appeared that the 
blow on the table was merely a signal for 
quiet before saying grace. I pulled myself 
in, much as a turtle would do, and possibly 
it should be credited to the stoicism of my 
race that I scarcely ever ate a heartier meal. 

After supper I got up and held out to the 

farmer nearly all the money I had. I did 

not care whether he took it all or not. I 

was grateful for the food, and money had 


On the White Man s Trail 

no such hold on my mind as it has gained 
since. To my astonishment, he simply 
smiled, shook his head, and stroked his 
shaggy beard. 

I was invited to join the family in the 
sod-house parlor, but owing to the severe 
nerve-shocks that I had experienced at 
the supper-table, I respectfully declined, 
and betook myself to the bank of the stream 
near by, where I sat down to meditate. 
Presently there pealed forth a peculiar, 
weird music, and the words of a strange song. 
It was music from a melodeon, but I did not 
then know what that was ; and the tune was 
"Nearer, my God, to Thee." Strange as 
it sounded to me, I felt that there was 
something soothing and gentle about the 
music and the voices. 

After a while curiosity led me back to 
the sod house, and I saw for the first time 
how the white woman pumps so much air 
into a box that when she presses on the top 
boards it howls convulsively. I forgot my 
bashfulness so far as to listen openly and 
enjoy the operation, wondering much how the 
white man puts a pair of lungs into a box, 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

which is furnished with a whole set of black 
and white teeth, and when he sings to it, it 
appears to answer him. 

Presently I walked over to a shed where 
the farmer seemed to be very busy with his 
son, earnestly hammering something with 
all their might in the midst of glowing fire 
and sparks. He had an old breaking-plow 
which he was putting into shape on his rude 
forge. With sleeves rolled up, face and 
hands blackened and streaming with sweat, 
I thought he looked not unlike a successful 
warrior just returned from the field of battle. 
His powerful muscles and the manly way in 
which he handled the iron impressed me 
tremendously. "I shall learn that profession 
if ever I reach the school and learn the white 
man s way," I thought. 

I thanked the good man for his kind 
invitation to sleep within the sod walls with 
all his family, but signed to him that I 
preferred to sleep out-of-doors. I could see 
some distrust in his eyes, for his horses were 
in the open stable; and at that my temper 
rose, but I managed to control it. He had 
been kind to me, and no Indian will break 

On the White Man s Trail 

the law of hospitality unless he has lost all 
the trails of his people. The man looked 
me over again carefully, and appeared 
satisfied; and I rolled myself up in my 
blanket among the willows, but every star 
that night seemed to be bent upon telling 
the story of the white man. 

I slept little, and early the next morning 

I was awakened by the barking of the 

farmer s collie and the laughter of his 

daughters. I got up and came to the house. 

Breakfast was nearly ready, and every 

member of the family was on hand. After 

/breakfast I once more offered my money, 

but was refused. I was glad. Then and 

/ there I loved civilization and renounced my 

I wild life. 

I took up my blanket and continued on 
my journey, which for three days was a 
lonely one. I had nothing with which to 
kill any game, so I stopped now and then 
at a sod house for food. When I reached 
the back hills of the Missouri, there lay 
before me a long slope leading to the river 
bottom, and upon the broad flat, as far as 
niy eyes could reach, lay farm-houses and 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

farms. Ah ! I thought, this is the way of 
civilization, the basis upon which it rests ! 
I desired to know that life. 

Thirty miles from the school I met Dr. 
Riggs on the road, coming to the town of 
Yankton, and received some encouraging 
words from him, for he spoke the Sioux 
language very well. A little further on I 
met the Indian agent, Major Sears, a Quaker, 
and he, too, gave me a word of encouragement 
when he learned that I had walked a hundred 
and fifty miles to school. My older brother 
John, who was then assistant teacher and 
studying under Dr. Riggs, met me at the 
school and introduced me to my new life. 

The bell of the old chapel at Santee 
summoned the pupils to class. Our 
principal read aloud from a large book 
and offered prayer. Although he conducted 
devotional exercises in the Sioux language, 
the subject matter was still strange, and 
the names he used were unintelligible to 
me. "Jesus" and "Jehovah" fell upon my 
ears as mere meaningless sounds. 

I understood that he was praying to the 
"Great Mystery" that the work of the day 


On the White Man s Trail 

might be blessed and their labor be fruitful. 
A cold sweat came out upon me as I heard 
him ask the "Great Mystery" to be with 
us in that day s work in that school building. 
I thought it was too much to ask of Him. I 
had been taught that the Supreme Being 
is only concerned with spirits, and that 
when one wishes to commune with Him in 
nature he must be in a spiritual attitude, 
and must retire from human sound or in 
fluence, alone in the wilderness. Here for 
the first time I heard Him addressed openly 
in the presence of a house full of young men 
and young girls ! 

All the scholars were ordered to various 
rooms under different instructors, and I 
was left in the chapel with another long 
haired young man. He was a Mandan from 
Fort Berthold one of our ancient enemies. 
Not more than two years before that time 
my uncle had been on the war-path against 
this tribe and had brought home two Mandan 
scalps. He, too, was a new scholar, and 
looked as if he were about to come before 
the judge to receive his sentence. My 
heart at once went out to him, although the 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

other pupils were all of my own tribe, the 
Sioux. I noticed that he had beautiful 
long hair arranged in two plaits, and in spite 
of his sad face he was noble-looking and 
appeared to great advantage, I thought, in 
contrast with the other pupils, whose hair 
was cut short and their garments not be 
coming to them at all. This boy, Alfred 
Mandan, became a very good friend of 

Dr. Riggs took me in hand and told me 
the rules of the school and what was expected 
of us. There was the chapel, which was 
used as a church every Sunday and as a 
schoolhouse on week days. There was the 
Dakota Home for the girls dormitory a 
small, square frame building and for the 
boys a long log house some two hundred 
yards from the chapel under the large cotton- 

Dr. Riggs said that I need not study 
that first day, but could fill up the big bag 
he brought me with straw from the straw 
pile back of his barn. I carried it over to 
the log cabin, where the Doctor was before 
me and had provided a bunk or framework 

On the White Man s Trail 

for my bed. I filled a smaller bag for a 
pillow, and, having received the sheets and 
blankets, I made my first white man s bed 
under his supervision. When it was done it 
looked clean and dignified enough for any 
one, I thought. 

He said that I must make it every morning 
like that before going to school. "And for 
your wash, there is a tin basin or two on a 
bench just outside of the door, by the water- 
barrels." And so it was. We had three 
barrels of Missouri River water, which we 
ourselves filled up every week, for we boys 
had to furnish our own water and wood, 
and were detailed in pairs for this work. 

Dr. Riggs supplied axes for the wood- 
choppers, and barrels and pails for the water- 
carriers, also a yoke of large and gentle 
white oxen and a lumber-wagon. It seems 
to me that I never was better acquainted 
with two animals than with these two ! I 
have done some of my solemnest thinking 
behind them. The Missouri River was 
about two miles from our log house, with a 
wide stretch of bottom land intervening, 
partly cottonwood timber and partly open 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

meadow with tall grass. I could take a 
nap, or dance a war-dance, if I cared to do 
so, while they were carrying me to wood or 
to water. 

Dr. Riggs gave me a little English primer 
to study, also one or two books in the Dakota 
language, which I had learned to read in the 
day-school. There was a translation of the 
Psalms, and of the Pilgrim s Progress. I 
must confess that at that time I would have 
preferred one of grandmother s evening 
stories, or my uncle s account of his day s 
experiences in the chase. I thought it was 
the dullest hunting I had ever known ! 

Toward evening a company of three 
young men arrived from up the river to 
all appearance full-fledged warriors. Ah, it 
was good to see the handsome white, blue, 
and red blankets worn by these stately 
Sioux youths ! I had not worn one since 
my return from Canada. My brother got 
me a suit of clothes, and had some one cut 
my hair, which was already over my ears, 
as it had not been touched since the year 
before. I felt like a wild goose with its wings 


On the White Man s Trail 

Next morning the day pupils emerged 
in every direction from the woods and deep 
ravines where the Indians had made their 
temporary homes, while we, the log-cabin 
boarders, came out in Indian file. The 
chapel bell was tolling as we reached the 
yard, when my attention was attracted to a 
pretty lass standing with her parents and 
Dr. Riggs near the Dakota Home. Then 
they separated and the father and mother 
came toward us, leaving the Doctor and the 
pretty Dakota maiden standing still. All 
at once the girl began to run toward her 
parents, screaming pitifully. 

"Oh, I cannot, I cannot stay in the white 
man s house ! I ll die, I ll die ! Mamma ! 
Mamma !" 

The parents stopped and reasoned with 
the girl, but it was of no use. Then I saw 
them leading her back to the Dakota Home, 
in spite of her pleading and begging. The 
scene made my blood boil, and I suppressed 
with difficulty a strong desire to go to her 

How well I remember the first time we 
were called upon to recite ! In the same 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

primer class were Eagle-Crane, Kite, and 
their compatriot from up the river. For a 
whole week we youthful warriors were held 
up and harassed with words of three letters. 
Like raspberry bushes in the path, they tore, 
bled, and sweated us those little words 
rat, cat, and so forth until not a semblance 
of our native dignity and self-respect was 
left. And we were of just the age when the 
Indian youth is most on his dignity ! Imag 
ine the same fellows turned loose against 
Custer or Harney with anything like equal 
numbers and weapons, and those tried 
generals would feel like boys ! We had 
been bred and trained to those things; but 
when we found ourselves within four walls 
and set to pick out words of three letters 
we were like novices upon snow-shoes 
often flat on the ground. 

I hardly think I was ever tired in my life 
until those first days of boarding-school. 
All day things seemed to come and pass 
with a wearisome regularity, like walking 
railway ties the step was too short for 
me. At times I felt something of the fascina 
tion of the new life, and again there would 

On the White Man s Trail 

arise in me a dogged resistance, and a voice 
seemed to be saying, "It is cowardly to 
depart from the old things!" 

Aside from repeating and spelling words, 
we had to count and add imaginary amounts. 
We never had had any money to count, nor 
potatoes, nor turnips, nor bricks. Why, we 
valued nothing except honor; that cannot 
be purchased ! It seemed now that every 
thing must be measured in time or money 
or distance. And when the teacher placed 
before us a painted globe, and said that our 
world was like that that upon such a 
thing our forefathers had roamed and hunted 
for untold ages, as it whirled and danced 
around the sun in space I felt that my 
foothold was deserting me. All my savage 
training and philosophy was in the air, if 
these things were true. 

Later on, when Dr. Riggs explained to 
us the industries of the white man, his 
thrift and forethought, we could see the 
reasonableness of it all. Economy is the 
able assistant of labor, and the two together 
produce great results. The systems and 
methods of business were of great interest 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

to us, and especially the adoption of a medium 
of exchange. 

The Doctor s own personality impressed 
us deeply, and his words of counsel and 
daily prayers, strange to us at first, in time 
found root in our minds. Next to my own 
father, this man did more than perhaps any 
other to make it possible for me to grasp 
the principles of true civilization. He also 
strengthened and developed in me that 
native strong ambition to win out, by stick 
ing to whatever I might undertake. Asso 
ciated with him was another man who in 
fluenced me powerfully toward Christian 
living. This was the Rev. Dr. John P. 
Williamson, the pioneer Presbyterian mis 
sionary. The world seemed gradually to 
unfold before me, and the desire to know all 
that the white man knows was the tre 
mendous and prevailing thought in me, 
and was constantly growing upon me more 
and more. 

My father wrote to me in the Dakota 

language for my encouragement. Dr. Riggs 

had told him that I was not afraid of books 

or of work, but rather determined to profit 


On the White Man s Trail 

by them. "My son," he wrote, "I believe 
that an Indian can learn all that is in the 
books of the white man, so that he may be 
equal to them in the ways of the mind!" 

I studied harder than most of the boys. 
Missionaries were poor, and the Govern 
ment policy of education for the Indian 
had not then been developed. The white 
man in general had no use for the Indian. 
Sitting Bull and the Northern Cheyennes 
were still fighting in Wyoming and Montana, 
so that the outlook was not bright for me 
to pursue my studies among the whites, 
yet it was now my secret dream and ambi 

It was at Santee that I sawed my first 
cord of wood. Before long I had a little 
money of my own, for I sawed most of Dr. 
Riggs s own wood and some at the Dakota 
Home, besides other work for which I was 
paid. Although I could not understand or 
speak much English, at the end of my second 
year I could translate every word of my 
English studies into the native tongue, 
besides having read all that was then pub 
lished in the Sioux. I had caught up with 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

boys who had two or three years the start 
of me, and was now studying elementary 
algebra and geometry. 

One day Dr. Riggs came to me and said 
that he had a way by which he could send 
me to Beloit, Wisconsin, to enter the pre 
paratory department of Beloit College. This 
was a great opportunity, and I grasped it 
eagerly, though I had not yet lost my old 
timidity about venturing alone among the 
white people. 

On the eve of departure, I received word 
from Flandreau that my father was dead, 
after only two days illness. He was still in 
the prime of life and a tireless worker. This 
was a severe shock to me, but I felt even 
more strongly that I must carry out his 
wishes. It was clear that he who had sought 
me out among the wild tribes at the risk of 
his life, and set my feet in the new trail, 
should be obeyed to the end. I did not go 
back to my home, but in September, 1876, 
I started from Santee to Beloit to begin my 
serious studies. 




journey to Beloit College was an 
education in itself. At Yankton City 
I boarded the train for the first time in my 
life, but not before having made a careful 
inspection of the locomotive that fiery 
monster which had so startled me on my 
way home from Canada. Every hour 
brought new discoveries and new thoughts 
visions that came and passed like the tele 
graph poles as we sped [by. More and more 
we seemed to me to be moving upon regions 
too small for the inhabitants. Towns and vil 
lages grew ever larger and nearer together, 
until at last we reached a city of some little 
size where it was necessary for me to change 
cars, a matter that had been arranged by 
Dr. Riggs with the conductor. The streets 
looked crowded and everybody seemed to 
be in the greatest possible hurry. I was 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

struck with the splendor of the shops and 
the brilliant show windows. Some one took 
me to an eating house and left me alone with 
the pretty waitress, whose bright eyes and 
fluent speech alarmed me. I thought it 
best to agree with everything she said, so I 
assented with a nod of the head, and I 
fancy she brought me everything that was 
on the bill of fare ! 

When I reached Beloit on the second day 
of my pilgrimage, I found it beautifully 
located on the high, wooded banks of Black 
Hawk s picturesque Rock River. The col 
lege grounds covered the site of an ancient 
village of mound-builders, which showed to 
great advantage on the neat campus, where 
the green grass was evenly cut with lawn- 
mowers. I was taken to President Chapin s 
house, and after a kindly greeting, shown 
to my room in South College, where I im 
mediately opened all the windows. A 
young man emerged from our building 
and I could distinctly hear him shouting 
to another across the Common : 

"Hurry up, Turkey, or you ll not have 
the chance to face old Petty again ! We 

College Life in the West 

have Sitting Bull s nephew right here, and 
it s more than likely he ll have your scalp- 
lock before morning!" 

"Turkey," as I soon learned, was the son 
of a missionary to that country, and both of 
these boys became good friends of mine 

It must be remembered that this was 
September, 1876, less than three months 
after Ouster s gallant command was anni 
hilated by the hostile Sioux. I was especially 
troubled when I learned that my two uncles 
whom we left in Canada had taken part in 
this famous fight. People were bitter against 
the Sioux in those days, and I think it was a 
local paper that printed the story that I was 
a nephew of Sitting Bull, who had sent me 
there to study the white man s arts so that 
he might be better able to cope with him. 
When I went into the town, I was followed 
on the streets by gangs of little white savages, 
giving imitation war whoops. 

My first recitation at Beloit was an event 
in my life. I was brought before a remark 
able looking man whose name was Professor 
Pettibone. He had a long, grave face, with 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

long whiskers and scarcely any hair on his 
head, and was to me the very embodiment 
of wisdom. I was already well drilled in the 
elementary studies, except that I was very 
diffident about speaking the English lan 
guage, and found it hard to recite or to 
demonstrate mathematical problems. How 
ever, I made every effort and soon learned to 
speak quite fluently, although not correctly ; 
but that fact did not discourage me. 

I was now a stranger in a strange country, 
and deep in a strange life from which I 
could not retreat. I was like a deaf man with 
eyes continually on the alert for the expres 
sion of faces, and to find them in general 
friendly toward me was somewhat reassuring. 
In spite of some nerve-trying moments, I 
soon recovered my balance and set to work. 
I absorbed knowledge through every pore. 
The more I got, the larger my capacity grew, 
and my appetite increased in proportion. I 
discovered that my anticipations of this new 
life were nearly all wrong, and was suddenly 
confronted with problems entirely foreign 
to my experience. If I had been told to 
swim across a lake, or run with a message 

College Life in the West 

through an unknown country, I should have 
had some conception of the task; but the 
idea of each word as having an office and a 
place and a specific name, and standing in 
relation to other words like the bricks in 
a wall, was almost beyond my grasp. As 
for history and geography, to me they were 
legends and traditions, and I soon learned 
to appreciate the pure logic of mathematics. 
A recent letter from a Beloit schoolmate 
says, "You were the only boy who could 
beat me in algebra !" 

At Beloit I spent three years of student 
life. While in some kinds of knowledge I 
was the infant of the college, in athletics 
I did my full share. To keep myself at my 
best physically, I spent no less than three 
hours daily in physical exercise, and this habit 
was kept up throughout my college days. 

I found among the students many who were 
self-supporting, either the sons of poor 
parents, or self-reliant youth who preferred 
to earn money for at least a part of their 
expenses. I soon discovered that these 
young men were usually among the best 
students. Since I had no means of my own, 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

and the United States Government had not 
then formulated the policy of Indian educa 
tion, I was ready for any kind of work, and 
on Saturdays I usually sawed wood and did 
other chores for the professors. 

During the first summer vacation I deter 
mined to hire out to a farmer. Armed with 
a letter of introduction from President 
Chapin, I set out in a southerly direction. 
As I walked, I recalled the troubles of that 
great chief of the Sac and Fox tribe, Black 
Hawk, who had some dispute with President 
Lincoln about that very region. 

At the first farm I came to, I approached 
the front door with some misgivings. A 
young lady asked me to wait, and I fancied I 
read in her clear blue eyes the thoughts that 
passed through her mind. In ten minutes 
or so, the farmer came in from the field and 
entered his home by another door, apparently 
taking some precautions against a surprise 
before coming to me where I waited, hungry 
and tired, on the doorstep. 

"Well, young man, what do you want?" 
quoth he. 

I said, "I am a student of Beloit College, 

College Life in the West 

but the college is closed for the summer and 
I am looking for work." 

"Oho! you can not work the New Ulm 
game on me. I don t think you can repro 
duce the Fort Dearborn massacre on this 
farm. By the way, what tribe do you belong 

"I am Sioux," I replied. 

"That settles it. Get off from my farm 
just as quick as you can ! I had a cousin 
killed by your people only last summer." 

I kept on my way until I found another 
farmer to whom I made haste to present my 
letter. For him I worked all summer, and 
as treaties were kept on both sides, there was 
no occasion for any trouble. 

It was here and now that my eyes were 
opened intelligently to the greatness of 
Christian civilization, the ideal civilization, 
as it unfolded itself before my eyes. I saw 
it as the development of every natural re 
source; the broad brotherhood of mankind; 
the blending of all languages and the gather 
ing of all races under one religious faith. 
There must be no more warfare within our 
borders; we must quit the forest trail for 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

the breaking-plow, since pastoral life was 
the next thing for the Indian. I renounced 
finally my bow and arrows for the spade and 
the pen ; I took off my soft moccasins and 
put on the heavy and clumsy but durable 
shoes. Every day of my life I put into use 
every English word that I knew, and for the 
first time permitted myself to think and act 
as a white man. 

At the end of three years, other Sioux 
Indians had been sent to Beloit, and I felt 
that I might progress faster where I was not 
surrounded by my tribesmen. Dr. Riggs 
arranged to transfer me to the preparatory 
department of Knox College, at Galesburg, 
111., of which he was himself a graduate. 
Here, again, I was thrown into close contact 
with the rugged, ambitious sons of western 
farmers. Among my stanch friends at Knox 
were S. S. McClure, John S. Phillips of the 
American Magazine, Edgar A. Bancroft of 
Chicago, now attorney for the International 
Harvester Company, Judge Merritt Pinckney 
of Chicago, Representative Rainey, and 
other men who have become well known and 
whose friendship is still retained. 

College Life in the West 

As Knox is a co-educational institution, it 
was here that I mingled for the first time 
with the pale-face maidens, and as soon as 
I could shake off my Indian shyness, I 
found them very winning and companion 
able. It was through social intercourse 
with the American college girl that I gained 
my first conception of the home life and 
domestic ideals of the white man. I had 
thoroughly learned the Indian club and 
dumb bell exercises at Beloit, and here at 
Knox I was enabled by teaching them to a 
class of young ladies to meet a part of my 

Soon I began to lay definite plans for the 
future. Happily, I had missed the de 
moralizing influences of reservation life, 
and had been mainly thrown with the best 
class of Christian white people. With all 
the strength of a clean young manhood, I 
set my heart upon the completion of a liberal 

The next question to decide was what 
should be my special work in life. It ap 
peared that in civilization one must have a 
definite occupation a profession. I wished 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

to share with my people whatever I might 
attain, and I looked about me for a distinct 
field of usefulness apart from the ministry, 
which was the first to be adopted by the 
educated Sioux. 

Gradually my choice narrowed down to 
law and medicine, for both of which I had a 
strong taste ; but the latter seemed to me to 
offer a better opportunity of service to my 
race ; therefore I determined upon the study 
of medicine long before I entered upon 
college studies. "Hitch your wagon to a 
star," says the American philosopher, and 
this was my star ! 



summer vacation, at my home in 
Dakota, Dr. Riggs told me the story 
of Dartmouth College in New Hampshire, 
and how it was originally founded as a school 
for Indian youth. The news was timely and 
good news ; and yet I hesitated. I dreaded 
to cut myself off from my people, and in my 
heart I knew that if I went, I should not 
return until I had accomplished my purpose. 
It was a critical moment in my life, but the 
decision could be only one way. I taught 
the little day-school where my first lessons 
had been learned, throughout the fall term, 
and in January, 1882, I set out for the far 
East, at a period when the Government was 
still at considerable trouble to subdue and 
settle some of my race upon reservations. 
Though a man in years, I had very little 
practical knowledge of the world, and in my 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

inexperience I was still susceptible to the 
adventurous and curious side of things rather 
than to their profounder meanings. There 
fore, while somewhat prepared, I was not yet 
conscious of the seriousness and terrific power 
of modern civilization. 

It was a crisp winter morning when the 
train pulled into Chicago. I had in mind the 
Fort Dearborn incident, and it seemed to me 
that we were being drawn into the deep 
gulches of the Bad Lands as we entered the 
city. I realized vividly at that moment that 
the day of the Indian had passed forever. 

I was met at the station by friends, who 
took me to walk upon some of the main 
streets. I saw a perfect stream of humanity 
rushing madly along, and noticed with some 
surprise that the faces of the people were 
not happy at all. They wore an intensely 
serious look that to me was appalling. 

I was cautioned against trusting strangers, 
and told that I must look out for pickpockets. 
Evidently there were some disadvantages 
connected with this mighty civilization, for 
we Indians seldom found it necessary to 
guard our possessions. It seemed to me that 

College Life in the East 

the most dignified men on the streets were 
the policemen, in their long blue coats with 
brass buttons. They were such a remark 
able set of men physically that this of itself 
was enough to catch my eye. 

Soon I was again upon the eastern bound 
express, and we had not gone far when a 
middle-aged man who had thoroughly in 
vestigated my appearance both through and 
over his glasses, came to my seat and with 
out apology or introduction began to bom 
bard me with countless questions. 

"You are an Indian?" he began. 

"Yes," I murmured. 

"What is your tribe?" 


"How came you so far away from the 
tribe? Are you a member of Sitting Bull s 
band? Are you related to him?" he con 
tinued. I was greatly relieved when he 
released me from his intrusive scrutiny. 
Among our people, the children and old 
women sometimes betray curiosity as regards 
a stranger, but no grown man would be 
guilty of such bad manners as I have often 
met with when traveling. 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

After we left Albany, I found myself in a 
country the like of which, I thought, I 
would have given much to hunt over before 
it was stripped of its primeval forests, and 
while deer and bears roamed over it un 
disturbed. I looked with delight upon 
mountains and valleys, and even the little 
hamlets perched upon the shelves of the 
high hills. The sight of these rocky farms 
and little villages reminded me of the pres 
ence of an earnest and persistent people. 
Even the deserted farmhouse, the ruined 
mill, had an air of saying, "I have done my 
part in the progress of civilization. Now I 
can rest." And all the mountains seemed 
to say, Amen. 

What is the great difference between these 
people and my own? I asked myself. Is it 
not that the one keeps the old things and 
continually adds to them new improvements, 
while the other is too well contented with 
the old, and will not change his ways nor 
seek to improve them? 

When I reached Boston, I was struck with 
the old, mossy, granite edifices, and the 
narrow, crooked streets. Here, too, the 

College Life in the East 

people hurried along as if the gray wolf 
were on their trail. Their ways impressed 
me as cold, but I forgot that when I had 
learned to know some of them better. 

I went on to Dartmouth College, away up 
among the granite hills. The country around 
it is rugged and wild; and thinking of the 
time when red men lived here in plenty and 
freedom, it seemed as if I had been destined 
to come view their graves and bones. No, 
I said to myself, I have come to continue 
that which in their last struggle they pro 
posed to take up, in order to save themselves 
from extinction ; but alas ! it was too late. 
Had our New England tribes but followed 
the example of that great Indian, Samson 
Occum, and kept up with the development 
of Dartmouth College, they would have 
brought forth leaders and men of culture. 
This was my ambition that the Sioux \ 
should accept civilization before it was too ]/ 
late ! I wished that our young men might 
at once take up the white man s way, and 
prepare themselves to hold office and wield 
influence in their native states. Although 
this hope has not been fully realized, I have 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

the satisfaction of knowing that not a few 
Indians now hold positions of trust and exer 
cise some political power. 

At Dartmouth College I found the build 
ings much older and more imposing than any 
I had seen before. There was a true 
scholastic air about them; in fact, the 
whole village impressed me as touched with 
the spirit of learning and refinement. My 
understanding of English was now so much 
enlarged as to enable me to grasp current 
events, as well as the principles of civiliza 
tion, in a more intelligent manner. 

At Kimball Union Academy, the little 
ancient institution at which I completed 
my preparation for college by direction of 
President Bartlett of Dartmouth, I absorbed 
much knowledge of the New Englander and 
his peculiarities. I found Yankees of the 
uneducated, class very Indian-like in their 
views and habits; a people of strong char 
acter, plain-spoken, and opinionated. How 
ever, I observed that the students of the 
academy and their parents were very frugal 
and saving. Nothing could have been more 
instructive to me, as we Indians are inclined 

College Life in the East 

to be improvident. I had been accustomed 
to broad, fertile prairies, and liberal ways. 
Here they seemed to count their barrels of 
potatoes and apples before they were grown. 
Every little brooklet was forced to do a river s 
work in their mills and factories. 

I was graduated here and went to old 
Dartmouth in the fall of 1883 to enter the 
Freshman class. Although I had associated 
with college students for several years, yet 
I must confess that western college life is 
quiet compared with that of the tumultuous 
East. It was here that I had most of my 
savage gentleness and native refinement 
knocked out of me. I do not complain, 
for I know that I gained more than their 

On the evening of our first class meeting, 
lo ! I was appointed football captain for my 
class. My supporters orated quite effectively 
on my qualifications as a frontier warrior, 
and some went so far as to predict that I 
would, when warmed up, scare all the Sophs 
off the premises ! These representations 
seemed to be confirmed when, that same 
evening after supper, the two classes met in 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

a first "rush," and as I was not acquainted 
with the men, I held up the professor of 
philosophy, mistaking him for one of the 
sophomores. Reporters for the Boston 
dailies made the most of their opportunity 
to enlarge upon this incident. 

I was a sort of prodigal son of old Dart 
mouth, and nothing could have exceeded 
the heartiness of my welcome. The New 
England Indians, for whom it was founded, 
had departed well-nigh a century earlier, 
and now a warlike Sioux, like a wild fox, had 
found his way into this splendid seat of 
learning ! Though poor, I was really better 
off than many of the students, since the old 
college took care of me under its ancient 
charter. I was treated with the greatest 
kindness by the president and faculty, and 
often encouraged to ask questions and express 
my own ideas. My uncle s observations in 
natural history, for which he had a positive 
genius, the Indian standpoint in sociology 
and political economy, these were the sub 
ject of some protracted discussions in the 
class room. This became so well under 
stood, that some of my classmates who had 

College Life in the East 

failed to prepare their recitations would 
induce me to take up the time by advancing 
a native theory or first hand observation. 

For the first time, I became really 
interested in literature and history. Here 
it was that civilization began to loom up be 
fore me colossal in its greatness, when the 
fact dawned upon me that nations and 
tongues, as well as individuals, have lived 
and died. There were two men of the past 
who were much in my thoughts : my 
countryman Occum, who matriculated there 
a century before me, and the great Daniel 
Webster (said to have a strain of Indian 
blood), who came to Dartmouth as impecu 
nious as I was. It was under the Old Pine 
Tree that the Indians were supposed to have 
met for the last time to smoke the pipe of 
peace, and under its shadow every graduating 
class of my day smoked a parting pipe. 

I was anxious to help myself as much as 
possible and gain practical experience at 
the same time, by working during the long 
summer vacations. One summer I worked 
in a hotel, at another time I canvassed for a 
book, I think it was the "Knights of Labor," 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

published in Boston. Such success as I 
attained was due less to any business sagac 
ity than to a certain curiosity I seemed to 
excite, and which often resulted in the pur 
chase of the book, whether the subscriber 
really cared for it or not. Another summer, 
an old school friend, an Armenian, con 
ceived the scheme of dressing me in native 
costume and sending me out to sell his goods. 
When I wore a jacket and fez, and was well 
scented with attar of rose, no dog would 
permit me on his master s premises if he 
could help it ; nevertheless I did very well. 
For business purposes I was a Turk, but I 
never answered any direct questions on the 
subject of my nativity. 

Throughout my student days in the West, 
I had learned to reverence New England, 
and especially its metropolis, as the home of 
culture and art, of morality and Christianity. 
At that period that sort of thing got a lodging 
place in my savage mind more readily than 
the idea of wealth or material power. Some 
how I had supposed that Boston must be 
the home of the nation s elect and not far 
from the milleniuni. I was very happy 

College Life in the East 

when, after my graduation with the class of 
1887, it was made possible for me to study 
medicine at Boston University. The friends 
who generously assisted me to realize my 
great ambition were of the type I had 
dreamed of, and my home influences in 
their family all that I could have wished for. 
A high ideal of duty was placed before me, 
and I was doubly armed in my original pur 
pose to make my education of service to my 
race. I continued to study the Christ 
philosophy and loved it for its essential 
truths, though doctrines and dogmas often 
puzzled and repelled me. I attended the 
Shawmut Congregational church, of which 
the Rev. William Eliot Griffis was then 
pastor, and I am happy to say he became my 
life-long friend. 

Mr. and Mrs. Frank Wood, who were a 
father and mother to me at this period of 
my life, were very considerate of my health 
and gave me opportunity to enter into many 
outdoor sports, such as tennis and canoeing, 
beside regular gymnasium work. The unique 
features of old Boston, the park system with 
the public flower gardens and the Arboretum, 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

the reservoirs, and above all, the harbor with 
its vast assemblage of vessels, each of these 
was a school in itself. I did much general 
reading, and did not neglect my social oppor 
tunities. At Dartmouth I had met the 
English man of letters, Matthew Arnold, 
and he was kind enough to talk with me for 
some time. I have also talked with Emerson, 
Longfellow, Francis Parkman, and many 
other men of note. Mr. and Mrs. Wood 
were trustees of Wellesley College and I was 
so fortunate as to be an occasional visitor 
there, and to make the acquaintance of 
Miss Freeman, its first president. I believe 
the first lecture I ever delivered in public 
was before the Wellesley girls. I little 
dreamed that a daughter of mine would ever 
be among them ! At another time I was 
asked by Mrs. Hemenway to give one of a 
course of eight historical lectures to the 
high school boys and girls. My subject 
was the French and Indian wars, especially 
the conspiracy of Pontiac. I had studied 
this period minutely and spoke for an hour 
and a quarter without any manuscript. 
At the seaside hotels, I met society people 


College Life in the East 

of an entirely different sort to those I had 
hitherto taken as American types. I was, 
I admit, particularly struck with the audac 
ity and forwardness of the women. Among 
our people the man always leads. I was 
astonished to learn that some women whom 
I had observed to accept the most marked 
attentions from the men were married 
ladies. Perhaps my earlier training had 
been too Puritanical, or my aesthetic sense 
was not then fully developed, for I was 
surprised when I entered the ballroom to see 
the pretty women clad so scantily. 

One summer at Nantasket beach, I recall 
that I had somehow been noted by an enter 
prising representative of a Boston daily, 
who printed a column or so on my doings, 
which were innocent enough. He good- 
naturedly remarked that "the hero of the 
Boston society girls just now is a Sioux 
brave", etc. and described all the little 
gifts of sofa cushions, pictures, and so on, 
that I had ever received from my girl friends, 
as well as the medals won in college. I never 
knew who had let him into my room ! 

During the three years that I studied in 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

Boston, I went every summer to Mr. Moody s 
famous summer school at Northfield, and 
was much interested in his strong personality. 
One morning as we walked together, we came 
to a stone at the roadside. "Eastman," 
said he, "this stone is a reminder of the 
cruelty of your countrymen two centuries 
ago. Here they murdered an innocent Chris 

"Mr. Moody," I replied, "it might have 
been better if they had killed them all. 
Then you would not have had to work so 
hard to save the souls of their descendants." 

At the date of my graduation, in 1890, 
the Government had fully committed itself 
to the new and permanent plan of educating 
the young Indians preparatory to admitting 
them to citizenship. Various philanthropic 
societies had been formed expressly to help 
toward this end. These facts gave weight 
and momentum to my desire to use all that 
I had learned for their benefit. I soon 
received my appointment to the position of 
Government physician at Pine Ridge agency 
in South Dakota, to report October first. 
Meantime I stayed in Boston and kept 

College Life in the East 

books for Mr. Wood while his bookkeeper 
took a vacation, and later secured an exten 
sion of time in order to attend the Lake 
Mohonk Indian conference. Here I met 
Mr. Herbert Welsh and Professor Painter of 
the Indian Rights association, Bishop Hare, 
Bishop Whipple, and many others, and 
listened with great interest to their dis 
cussions. I became convinced that the 
Indians had some real friends and this gave 
me much encouragement. 



Pine Ridge Indian agency was a 
bleak and desolate looking place in 
those days, more especially in a November 
dust storm such as that in which I arrived 
from Boston to take charge of the medical 
work of the reservation. In 1890 a "white 
doctor" who was also an Indian was some 
thing of a novelty, and I was afterward in 
formed that there were many and diverse 
speculations abroad as to my success or 
failure in this new role, but at the time I 
was unconscious of an audience. I was 
thirty-two years of age, but appeared much 
younger, athletic and vigorous, and alive 
with energy and enthusiasm. 

After reporting to the Indian agent, I 

was shown to my quarters, which consisted 

of a bedroom, sitting room, office, and dispen 

sary, all in one continuous barrack with the 




A Doctor among the Indians 

police quarters and the agent s offices. This 
barrack was a flimsy one-story affair built 
of warped cottonwood lumber, and the rude 
prairie winds whistled musically through 
the cracks. There was no carpet, no furni 
ture save a plain desk and a couple of hard 
wooden chairs, and everything was coated 
with a quarter of an inch or so of fine Dakota 
dust. This did not disconcert me, however, 
as I myself was originally Dakota dust ! 
An old-fashioned box stove was the only 
cheerful thing on the premises, and the first 
duty I performed was to myself. I built a 
roaring fire in the stove, and sat down for a 
few minutes to take a sort of inventory of 
the situation and my professional prospects. 

I had not yet thought seriously of making 
a life contract with any young woman, and 
accordingly my place was at the agency mess 
where the unmarried employees took their 
meals. I recall that the cook at that time 
was a German, and the insistent sauerkraut 
and other German dishes were new to me 
and not especially appetizing. 

After supper, as I sat alone in my dismal 
quarters fighting the first pangs of home- 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

sickness, an Indian softly opened the door 
and stepped in without knocking, in char 
acteristic Indian fashion. My first caller 
was old Blue Horse, chief emeritus of the 
Loafer band, of which American Horse was 
the active chief. After greeting me in 
Sioux, he promptly produced his credentials, 
which consisted of well-worn papers that 
had been given him by various high military 
officers, from General Harney to General 
Crook, and were dated 1854 to 1877. Blue 
Horse had been, as he claimed, a friend to 
the white man, for he was one of the first 
Sioux army scouts, and also one of the first 
to cross the ocean with Buffalo Bill. The 
old man wanted nothing so much as an au 
dience, and the tale of his exploits served to 
pass the evening. Some one had brought 
in a cot and an armful of blankets, and I 
was soon asleep. 

Next morning I hunted up an Indian 
woman to assist in a general cleaning and 
overhauling of the premises. My first 
official act was to close up the "hole in the 
wall", like a ticket seller s window, through 
which my predecessors had been wont to 

A Doctor among the Indians 

deal out pills and potions to a crowd of 
patients standing in line, and put a sign 
outside the door telling them to come in. 

It so happened that this was the day of 
the "Big Issue," on which thousands of 
Indians scattered over a reservation a hun 
dred miles long by fifty wide, came to the 
agency for a weekly or fortnightly supply 
of rations, and it was a veritable "Wild 
West" array that greeted my astonished 
eyes. The streets and stores were alive 
with a motley crowd in picturesque garb, 
for all wore their best on these occasions. 
Every road leading to the agency was filled 
with white-topped lumber wagons, with here 
and there a more primitive travois, and 
young men and women on ponies backs 
were gaily curvetting over the hills. The 
Sioux belle of that period was arrayed in 
grass-green or bright purple calico, loaded 
down with beads and bangles, and sat 
astride a spotted pony, holding over her 
glossy uncovered braids and vermilion-tinted 
cheeks a gaily colored silk parasol. 

Toward noon, the whole population moved 
out two or three miles to a large corral in 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

the midst of a broad prairie, where a herd 
of beef cattle was held in readiness by the 
agency cowboys. An Indian with stentorian 
voice, mounted on a post, announced the 
names of the group whose steer was to be 
turned loose. Next moment the flying ani 
mal was pursued by two or three swift 
riders with rifles across their saddles. As 
the cattle were turned out in quick succes 
sion, we soon had a good imitation of the 
old time buffalo hunt. The galloping, long- 
horned steers were chased madly in every 
direction, amid yells and whoops, the firing 
of guns and clouds of yellow dust, with 
here and there a puff of smoke and a dull 
report as one stumbled and fell. 

The excitement was soon over, and men 
of each group were busy skinning the 
animals, dressing the meat and dividing it 
among the families interested. Meanwhile 
the older women, sack in hand, approached 
the commissary, where they received their 
regular dole of flour, bacon, coffee, and sugar. 
Fires were soon blazing merrily in the va 
rious temporary camps scattered over the 
prairie and in the creek bottoms, and after 





A Doctor among the Indians 

dinner, horse races and dancing were features 
of the day. Many white sight-seers from 
adjoining towns were usually on hand. 
Before night, most of the people had set off 
in a cloud of dust for their distant homes. 
It is no wonder that I was kept on my feet 
giving out medicine throughout that day, 
as if from a lemonade stand at a fair. It was 
evident that many were merely seeking an 
excuse to have a look at the "Indian white 
doctor." Most of them diagnosed their 
own cases and called for some particular 
drug or ointment ; a mixture of cod liver 
oil and alcohol was a favorite. It surprised 
them that I insisted upon examining each 
patient and questioning him in plain Sioux 
- no interpreter needed ! I made a record 
of the interesting cases and took note of the 
place where they were encamped, planning 
to visit as many as possible in their teepees 
before they took again to the road. 

The children of the large Government 
boarding school were allowed to visit their 
parents on issue day, and when the parting 
moment came, there were some pathetic 
scenes. It was one of my routine duties 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

to give written excuses from school when 
necessary on the ground of illness, and these 
excuses were in much demand from lonely 
mothers and homesick little ones. As a 
last resort, the mother herself would some 
times plead illness and the need of her boy 
or girl for a few days at home. I was of 
course wholly in sympathy with the policy 
of education for the Indian children, yet by 
no means hardened to the exhibition of 
natural feeling. I would argue the matter 
with the parents as tactfully as I could; 
but if nothing else could win the coveted 
paper, the grandmother was apt to be 
pressed into the service, and her verbal 
ammunition seemed inexhaustible. 

Captain Sword, the dignified and intelli 
gent head of the Indian police force, was 
very friendly, and soon found time to give 
me a great deal of information about the 
place and the people. He said finally: 

"Kola (my friend), the people are very 
glad that you have come. You have begun 
well ; we Indians are all your friends. But 
I fear that we are going to have trouble. I 
must tell you that a new religion has been 

A Doctor among the Indians 

proclaimed by some Indians in the Rocky 
Mountain region, and some time ago, Sitting 
Bull sent several of his men to investigate. 
We hear that they have come back, saying 
that they saw the prophet, or Messiah, who 
told them that he is God s Son whom He has 
sent into the world a second time. He told 
them that He had waited nearly two thousand 
years for the white men to carry out His 
teachings, but instead they had destroyed 
helpless small nations to satisfy their own 
selfish greed. Therefore He had come again, 
this time as a Savior to the red people. If 
they would follow His instructions exactly, 
in a little while He would cause the earth 
to shake and destroy all the cities of the white 
man, when famine and pestilence would 
come to finish the work. The Indians must 
live entirely by themselves in their teepees so 
that the earthquake would not harm them. 
They must fast and pray and keep up a holy 
or spirit dance that He taught them. He also 
ordered them to give up the white man s 
clothing and make shirts and dresses in the 
old style. 

"My friend," Sword went on, "our res- 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

ervation has been free from this new teach 
ing until the last few weeks. Quite lately 
this ghost dance was introduced by Slow 
Bull and Kicking Bear from Rosebud" a 
neighboring agency. "It has been rapidly 
gaining converts in many of the camps. This 
is what the council to-day was about. The 
agent says that the Great Father at Wash 
ington wishes it stopped. I fear the people 
will not stop. I fear trouble, kola." 

I listened in silence, for I was taken entirely 
by surprise. Shortly afterward, the agent 
himself, a new man and a political appointee, 
approached me on the same matter. "I 
tell you, doctor," he began, after an exchange 
of greetings, "I am mighty glad you came 
here at just this time. We have a most 
difficult situation to handle, but those men 
down in Washington don t seem to realize 
the facts. If I had my way, I would have 
had troops here before this," he declared 
with emphasis. "This Ghost dance craze 
is the worst thing that has ever taken hold 
of the Indian race. It is going like wild 
fire among the tribes, and right here and now 
the people are beginning to defy my author- 

A Doctor among the Indians 

ity, and my Indian police seem to be power 
less. I expect every employee on the agency 
to do his or her best to avert an outbreak." 
I assured him that he might count on me. 
"I shall talk to you more fully on the subject 
as soon as you are settled," he concluded. 

I began to think the situation must be 
serious, and decided to consult some of the 
educated and Christian Indians. At this 
juncture a policeman appeared with a note, 
and handed me my orders, as I supposed. 
But when I opened it, I read a gracefully 
worded welcome and invitation to a tea 
party at the rectory, "to celebrate," the 
writer said, "my birthday, and your coming 
to Pine Ridge." I was caught up by the 
wind of destiny, but at the moment my only 
thought was of pleasure in the prospect of 
soon meeting the Reverend Charles Smith 
Cook, the Episcopal missionary. He was a 
Yankton Sioux, a graduate of Trinity College 
and Seabury Divinity School, and I felt sure 
that I should find in him a congenial friend. 

I looked forward to the evening with a 
peculiar interest. Mr. Cook was delightful, 
and so was his gracious young wife, who had 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

been a New York girl. She had a sweet 
voice and was a trained musician. They had 
a little boy three or four years old. Then I 
met several young ladies, teachers in the 
boarding school, and a young man or two, 
and finally Miss Elaine Goodale, who was 
not entirely a stranger, as I had read her 
"Apple Blossoms" in Boston, and some of 
her later articles on Indian education in the 
Independent and elsewhere. Miss Goodale 
was supervisor of Indian schools in the 
Dakotas and Nebraska, and she was then 
at Pine Ridge on a tour of inspection. She 
was young for such a responsible position, 
but appeared equal to it in mentality and 
experience. I thought her very dignified 
and reserved, but this first evening s ac 
quaintance showed me that she was 
thoroughly in earnest and absolutely sin 
cere in her work for the Indians. I might 
as well admit that her personality impressed 
me deeply. I had laid my plans carefully, 
and purposed to serve my race for a few 
years in my profession, after which I would 
go to some city to practice, and I had de 
cided that it would be wise not to think of 

A Doctor among the Indians 

marriage for the present. I had not given 
due weight to the possibility of love. 

Events now crowded fast upon one another. 
It would seem enough that I had at last 
realized the dream of my life to be of 
some service to my people an ambition 
implanted by my earlier Indian teachers 
and fostered by my missionary training. 
I was really happy in devoting myself mind 
and body to my hundreds of patients who 
left me but few leisure moments. I soon 
found it absolutely necessary to have some 
help in the dispensary, and I enlisted the 
aid of George Graham, a Scotch half-breed, 
and a simple, friendly fellow. I soon taught 
him to put up the common salves and oint 
ments, the cough syrups and other mixtures 
which were in most frequent demand. To 
gether we scoured the shelves from top to 
bottom and prepared as best we could for 
the issue day crowds. 

After the second "Big Issue", I had an 
other call from Captain Sword. He began, 
I believe, by complimenting me upon a very 
busy day. "Your reputation," he declared, 
"has already travelled the length and breadth 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

of the reservation. You treat everybody 
alike, and your directions are understood by 
the people. No Government doctor has 
ever gone freely among them before. It is a 
new order of things. But I fear you have 
come at a bad time," he added seriously. 
"The Ghost dancers have not heeded the 
agent s advice and warning. They pay no 
attention to us policemen. The craze is 
spreading like a prairie fire, and the chiefs 
who are encouraging it do not even come to 
the agency. They send after their rations 
and remain at home. It looks bad." 

"Do they really mean mischief?" I asked 
incredulously, for Mr. Cook and I had dis 
cussed the matter and agreed in thinking 
that if the attempt was not made to stop it 
by force, the craze would die out of itself 
before long. 

"They say not, and that all they ask is 
to be let alone. They say the white man 
is not disturbed when he goes to church," 
Sword replied. "I must tell you, however, 
that the agent has just ordered the police 
to call in all Government employees with 
their families to the agency. This means 

A Doctor among the Indians 

that something is going to happen. I have 
heard that he will send for soldiers to come 
here to stop the Ghost dance. If so, there 
will be trouble." 

As I was still too new to the situation to 
grasp it fully, I concluded that in any case the 
only thing for me to do was to apply myself 
diligently to my special work, and await the 
issue. I had arranged to give a course of 
simple talks on physiology and hygiene at 
the Government boarding school, and on the 
evening of my first talk, I came back to my 
quarters rather late, for I had been invited 
to join the teachers afterward in their read 
ing circle, and had then seen Miss Goodale 
safe to the rectory. 

I had given up two of my rooms to Colonel 
Lee, the census taker, and his wife, who 
could find no other shelter in the crowded 
state of the agency, and found them await 
ing me. 

"Well, doc," said the jolly Colonel, "I sup 
pose you have fixed your eye on the prettiest 
of the school teachers by this time !" 

"I should be a callous man if I hadn t," 
I laughed. 


From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

"That s the right spirit. And now, here s 
a big bundle the stage left for you. Open 
it up, doc ; it may be some pies or Boston 
baked beans from your folks !" 

The parcel contained a riding suit of 
corduroy lined with leather, and reversible, 
also a pair of laced riding-boots reaching to 
the thigh, a present from an old friend in 
Boston. Nothing could have been more 
timely, for I now spent a good part of my 
days and not a few nights in the saddle. I 
was called to the most distant parts of the 
reservation, and had bought a fine white 
horse, part Arabian, which I named "Jack 
Frost." When I called for George to saddle 
him the next morning, I was surprised to 
have him hesitate. 

"Don t you think, doctor, you had better 
keep pretty close to the agency until things 
are a little more settled?" he asked. 

"Why, George, what do you mean?" 

"Well, this news that the troops have 
been sent for, whether it is true or not, is 
making a good deal of talk. No telling what 
some fool Indian may take it into his head 
to do next. Some of the white employees 

A Doctor among the Indians 

are not stopping at the agency, they are 
going right on to the railroad. I heard 
one man say there is going to be an 
Injin outbreak and he intends to get out 
while he can." 




A RELIGIOUS craze such as that of 
**> 1890-91 was a thing foreign to the 
Indian philosophy. I recalled that a hun 
dred years before, on the overthrow of 
the Algonquin nations, a somewhat similar 
faith was evolved by the astute Delaware 
prophet, brother to Tecumseh. It meant 
that the last hope of race entity had de 
parted, and my people were groping blindly 
after spiritual relief in their bewilderment 
and misery. I believe that the first prophets 
of the "Red Christ" were innocent enough 
and that the people generally were sincere, 
but there were doubtless some who went 
into it for self-advertisement, and who in 
troduced new and fantastic features to at 
tract the crowd. 

The ghost dancers had gradually con 
centrated on the Medicine Root creek and 

The Ghost Dance War 

the edge of the "Bad Lands," and they were 
still further isolated by a new order from the 
agent, calling in all those who had not ad 
hered to the new religion. Several thousand 
of these "friendlies" were soon encamped 
on the White Clay creek, close by the agency. 
It was near the middle of December, with 
weather unusually mild for that season. The 
dancers held that there would be no snow so 
long as their rites continued. 

An Indian called Little had been guilty 
of some minor offense on the reservation and 
had hitherto evaded arrest. Suddenly he 
appeared at the agency on an issue day, for 
the express purpose, as it seemed, of defying 
the authorities. The assembly room of the 
Indian police, used also as a council room, 
opened out of my dispensary, and on this 
particular morning a council was in progress. 
I heard some loud talking, but was too busy 
to pay particular attention, though my 
assistant had gone in to listen to the speeches. 
Suddenly the place was in an uproar, and 
George burst into the inner office, crying 
excitedly "Look out for yourself, friend! 
They are going to fight !" 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

I went around to see what was going on. 
A crowd had gathered just outside the coun 
cil room, and the police were surrounded 
by wild Indians with guns and drawn 
knives in their hands. "Hurry up with 
them!" one shouted, while another held his 
stone war-club over a policeman s head. 
The attempt to arrest Little had met with 
a stubborn resistance. 

At this critical moment, a fine-looking 
Indian in citizen s clothes faced the excited 
throng, and spoke in a clear, steady, almost 
sarcastic voice. 

"Stop! Think! What are you going to 
do ? Kill these men of our own race ? Then 
what? Kill all these helpless white men, 
women and children? And what then? 
What will these brave words, brave deeds 
lead to in the end? How long can you 
hold out ? Your country is surrounded with 
a network of railroads; thousands of white 
soldiers will be here within three days. 
What ammunition have you? what provi 
sions? What will become of your families? 
Think, think, my brothers ! this is a child s 


The Ghost Dance War 

It was the "friendly" chief, American 
Horse, and it seems to me as I recall the 
incident that this man s voice had almost 
magic power. It is likely that he saved us 
all from massacre, for the murder of the 
police, who represented the authority of the 
Government, would surely have been followed 
by a general massacre. It is a fact that those 
Indians who upheld the agent were in quite 
as much danger from their wilder brethren 
as were the whites, indeed it was said that 
the feeling against them was even stronger. 
Jack Red Cloud, son of the chief, thrust the 
muzzle of a cocked revolver almost into the 
face of American Horse. "It is you and 
your kind," he shouted, "who have brought 
us to this pass ! " That brave man never 
flinched. Ignoring his rash accuser, he 
quietly reentered the office; the door 
closed behind him; the mob dispersed, 
and for the moment the danger seemed 

That evening I was surprised by a late 

call from American Horse, the hero of the 

day. His wife entered close behind him. 

Scarcely were they seated when my door 


From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

again opened softly, and Captain Sword 
came in, followed by Lieutenant Thunder 
Bear and most of the Indian police. My 
little room was crowded. I handed them 
some tobacco, which I had always at hand 
for my guests, although I did not smoke 
myself. After a silence, the chief got up 
and shook hands with me ceremoniously. 
In a short speech, he asked my advice in 
the difficult situation that confronted them 
between the ghost dancers, men of their own 
blood, and the Government to which they 
had pledged their loyalty. 

Thanks to Indian etiquette, I could allow 
myself two or three minutes to weigh my 
words before replying. I finally said, in 
substance: " There is only one thing for 
us to do and be just to both sides. We must 
use every means for a peaceful settlement of 
this difficulty. Let us be patient; let us 
continue to reason with the wilder ele 
ment, even though some hotheads may 
threaten our lives. If the worst happens, 
however, it is our solemn duty to serve the 
United States Government. Let no man 
ever say that we were disloyal ! Following 

The Ghost Dance War 

such a policy, dead or alive, we shall have 
no apology to make." 

After the others had withdrawn, Sword 
informed me confidentially that certain 
young men had threatened to kill American 
Horse while asleep in his tent, and that his 
friends had prevailed upon him and his wife 
to ask my hospitality for a few days. I 
showed Mrs. American Horse to a small 
room that I had vacant, and soon after 
ward came three strokes of the office bell - 
the signal for me to report at the agent s 

I found there the agent, his chief clerk, 
and a visiting inspector, all of whom ob 
viously regarded the situation as serious. 
"You see, doctor," said the agent, "the 
occurrence of to-day was planned with re 
markable accuracy, so that even our alert 
police were taken entirely by surprise and 
readily overpowered. What will be the 
sequel we can not tell, but we must be pre 
pared for anything. I shall be glad to have 
your views," he added. 

I told him that I still did not believe there 
was any widespread plot, or deliberate 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

intention to make war upon the whites. In 
my own mind, I felt sure that the arrival of 
troops would be construed by the ghost 
dancers as a threat or a challenge, and would 
put them at once on the defensive. I was 
not in favor of that step; neither was Mr. 
Cook, who was also called into conference; 
but the officials evidently feared a general 
uprising, and argued that it was their duty 
to safeguard the lives of the employees and 
others by calling for the soldiers without 
more delay. Sword, Thunder Bear, and 
American Horse were sent for and their 
opinions appeared to be fully in accord 
with those of the agent and inspector, so 
the matter was given out as settled. As a 
matter of fact, the agent had telegraphed to 
Fort Robinson for troops before he made a 
pretense of consulting us Indians, and they 
were already on their way to Pine Ridge. 

I scarcely knew at the time, but gradually 
learned afterward, that the Sioux had many 
grievances and causes for profound dis 
content, which lay back of and were more or 
less closely related to the ghost dance craze 
and the prevailing restlessness and excite- 

The Ghost Dance War 

ment. Rations had been cut from time to 
time ; the people were insufficiently fed, and 
their protests and appeals were disregarded. 
Never was more ruthless fraud and graft 
practiced upon a defenseless people than 
upon these poor natives by the politicians ! 
Never were there more worthless "scraps of 
paper" anywhere in the world than many of 
the Indian treaties and Government docu 
ments ! Sickness was prevalent and the 
death rate alarming, especially among the 
children. Trouble from all these causes had 
for some time been developing, but might 
have been checked by humane and concilia 
tory measures. The "Messiah craze" in 
itself was scarcely a source of danger, and 
one might almost as well call upon the army 
to suppress Billy Sunday and his hysterical 
followers. Other tribes than the Sioux who 
adopted the new religion were let alone, 
and the craze died a natural death in the 
course of a few months. 

Among the leaders of the malcontents at 
this time were Jack Red Cloud, No Water, 
He Dog, Four Bears, Yellow Bear, and Kick 
ing Bear. Friendly leaders included Ameri- 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

can Horse, Young Man Afraid of his Horses, 
Bad Wound, Three Stars. There was still 
another set whose attitude was not clearly 
defined, and among these men was Red 
Cloud, the greatest of them all. He who 
had led his people so brilliantly and with 
such remarkable results, both in battle and 
diplomacy, was now an old man of over 
seventy years, living in a frame house which 
had been built for him within a half mile of 
the agency. He would come to council, 
but said little or nothing. No one knew 
exactly where he stood, but it seemed that 
he was broken in spirit as in body and con 
vinced of the hopelessness of his people s 

It was Red Cloud who asked the historic 
question, at a great council held in the Black 
Hills region w r ith a Government commission, 
and after good Bishop Whipple had finished 
the invocation, "Which God is our brother 
praying to now ? Is it the same God whom 
they have twice deceived, when they made 
treaties with us which they afterward 

Early in the morning after the attempted 

" MESSIAH CRAZE," 1890-01. 

The Ghost Dance War 

arrest of Little, George rushed into my 
quarters and awakened me. "Come 
quick!" he shouted, "the soldiers are 
here!" I looked along the White Clay 
creek toward the little railroad town of 
Rushville, Nebraska, twenty -five miles away, 
and just as the sun rose above the knife- 
edged ridges black with stunted pine, I 
perceived a moving cloud of dust that marked 
the trail of the Ninth Cavalry. There was 
instant commotion among the camps of 
friendly Indians. Many women and chil 
dren were coming in to the agency for refuge, 
evidently fearing that the dreaded soldiers 
might attack their villages by mistake. 
Some who had not heard of their impending 
arrival hurried to the offices to ask what 
it meant. I assured those who appealed 
to me that the troops were here only to 
preserve order, but their suspicions were 
not easily allayed. 

As the cavalry came nearer, we saw that 
they were colored troopers, wearing buffalo 
overcoats and muskrat caps ; the Indians 
with their quick wit called them "buffalo 
soldiers." They halted, and established their 


From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

temporary camp in the open space before the 
agency enclosure. The news had already 
gone out through the length and breadth of 
the reservation, and the wildest rumors were 
in circulation. Indian scouts might be seen 
upon every hill top, closely watching the 
military encampment. 

At this juncture came the startling news 
from Fort Yates, some two hundred and 
fifty miles to the north of us, that Sitting 
Bull had been killed by Indian police while 
resisting arrest, and a number of his men with 
him, as well as several of the police. We 
next heard that the remnant of his band had 
fled in our direction, and soon afterward, 
that they had been joined by Big Foot s 
band from the western part of Cheyenne 
River agency, which lay directly in their 
road. United States troops continued to 
gather at strategic points, and of course 
the press seized upon the opportunity to 
enlarge upon the strained situation and 
predict an "Indian uprising." The reporters 
were among us, and managed to secure much 
"news" that no one else ever heard of. 
Border towns were fortified and cowboys 

The Ghost Dance War 

and militia gathered in readiness to protect 
them against the "red devils." Certain 
classes of the frontier population indus 
triously fomented the excitement for what 
there was in it for them, since much money 
is apt to be spent at such times. As for the 
poor Indians, they were quite as badly 
scared as the whites and perhaps with more 

General Brooke undertook negotiations 
with the ghost dancers, and finally induced 
them to come within reach. They camped 
on a flat about a mile north of us and in full 
view, while the more tractable bands were 
still gathered on the south and west. The 
large boarding school had locked its doors 
and succeeded in holding its hundreds of 
Indian children, partly for their own sakes, 
and partly as hostages for the good behavior \ / 
of their fathers. At the agency were now 
gathered all the government employees and 
their families, except such as had taken 
flight, together with traders, missionaries, 
and ranchmen, army officers, and newspaper 
men. It was a conglomerate population. 

During this time of grave anxiety and 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

nervous tension, the cooler heads among us 
went about our business, and still refused to 
believe in the tragic possibility of an Indian 
war. It may be imagined that I was more 
than busy, though I had not such long dis 
tances to cover, for since many Indians 
accustomed to comfortable log houses were 
compelled to pass the winter in tents, there 
was even more sickness than usual. I had 
access and welcome to the camps of all the 
various groups and factions, a privilege 
shared by my good friend Father Jutz, the 
Catholic missionary, who was completely 
trusted by his people. 

The Christmas season was fast approaching, 
and this is perhaps the brightest spot in the 
mission year. The children of the Sunday 
Schools, and indeed all the people, look 
eagerly forward to the joyous feast ; barrels 
and boxes are received and opened, candy 
bags made and filled, carols practiced, and 
churches decorated with ropes of spicy ever 

Anxious to relieve the tension in every 
way within his power, Mr. Cook and his 
helpers went on with their preparations upon 

The Ghost Dance War 

even a larger scale than usual. Since all 
of the branch stations had been closed and 
the people called in, it was planned to keep 
the Christmas tree standing in the chapel 
for a week, and to distribute gifts to a 
separate congregation each evening. I found 
myself pressed into the service, and passed 
some happy hours in the rectory. For me, 
at that critical time, there was inward struggle 
as well as the threat of outward conflict, and 
I could not but recall what my "white 
mother" had said jokingly one day, referring 
to my pleasant friendships with many charm 
ing Boston girls, "I know one Sioux who has 
not been conquered, and I shall not rest 
till I hear of his capture!" 

I had planned to enter upon my life work 
unhampered by any other ties, and declared 
that all my love should be vested in my 
people and my profession. At last, however, 
I had met a woman whose sincerity was 
convincing and whose ideals seemed very 
like my own. Her childhood had been 
spent almost as much out of doors as mine, 
on a lonely estate high up in the Berkshire 
hills; her ancestry Puritan on one side, 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

proud Tories on the other. She had been 
moved by the appeals of that wonderful 
man, General Armstrong, and had gone to 
Hampton as a young girl to teach the 
Indians there. After three years, she under 
took pioneer work in the West as teacher of a 
new camp school among the wilder Sioux, 
and after much travel and study of their 
peculiar problems had been offered the 
appointment she now held. She spoke the 
Sioux language fluently and went among 
the people with the utmost freedom and 
confidence. Her methods of work were 
very simple and direct. I do not know 
what unseen hand had guided me to her 
side, but on Christmas day of 1890, Elaine 
Goodale and I announced our engagement. 

Three days later, we learned that Big 
Foot s band of ghost dancers from the 
Cheyenne river reservation north of us was 
approaching the agency, and that Major 
Whiteside was in command of troops with 
orders to intercept them. 

Late that afternoon, the Seventh Cavalry 
under Colonel Forsythe was called to the 
saddle and rode off toward Wounded Knee 

The Ghost Dance War 

creek, eighteen miles away. Father Craft, 
a Catholic priest with some Indian blood, 
who knew Sitting Bull and his people, fol 
lowed an hour or so later, and I was much 
inclined to go too, but my fiancee pointed 
out that my duty lay rather at home with 
our Indians, and I stayed. 

The morning of December 29th was sunny 
and pleasant. We were all straining our 
ears toward Wounded Knee, and about the 
middle of the forenoon we distinctly heard 
the reports of the Hotchkiss guns. Two 
hours later, a rider was seen approaching at 
full speed, and in a few minutes he had dis 
mounted from his exhausted horse and 
handed his message to General Brooke s 
orderly. The Indians were watching their 
own messenger, who ran on foot along the 
northern ridges and carried the news to the 
so-called "hostile" camp. It was said that 
he delivered his message at almost the same 
time as the mounted officer. 

The resulting confusion and excitement 
was unmistakable. The white teepees dis 
appeared as if by magic and soon the caravans 
were in motion, going toward the natural 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

fortress of the "Bad Lands." In the 
"friendly" camp there was almost as much 
turmoil, and crowds of frightened women 
and children poured into the agency. Big 
Foot s band had been wiped out by the 
troops, and reprisals were naturally looked 
for. The enclosure was not barricaded in 
any way and we had but a small detachment 
of troops for our protection. Sentinels were 
placed, and machine guns trained on the 
various approaches. 

A few hot-headed young braves fired on 
the sentinels and wounded two of them. The 
Indian police began to answer by shooting 
at several braves who were apparently about 
to set fire to some of the outlying buildings. 
Every married employee was seeking a 
place of safety for his family, the interpreter 
among them. Just then General Brooke ran 
out into the open, shouting at the top of his 
voice to the police: "Stop, stop! Doctor, 
tell them they must not fire until ordered !" 
I did so, as the bullets whistled by us, and 
the General s coolness perhaps saved all 
our lives, for we were in no position to repel 
a large attacking force. Since we did not 

The Ghost Dance War 

reply, the scattered shots soon ceased, but 
the situation remained critical for several 
days and nights. 

My office was full of refugees. I called 
one of my good friends aside and asked him 
to saddle my two horses and stay by them. 
"When general fighting begins, take them 
to Miss Goodale and see her to the railroad 
if you can," I told him. Then I went over 
to the rectory. Mrs. Cook refused to go 
without her husband, and Miss Goodale 
would not leave while there was a chance of 
being of service. The house was crowded 
with terrified people, most of them Christian 
Indians, whom our friends were doing their 
best to pacify. 

At dusk, the Seventh Cavalry returned 
with their twenty-five dead and I believe 
thirty-four wounded, most of them by their 
own comrades, who had encircled the In 
dians, while few of the latter had guns. A 
majority of the thirty or more Indian 
wounded were women and children, includ 
ing babies in arms. As there were not tents 
enough for all, Mr. Cook offered us the 
mission chapel, in which the Christmas tree 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

still stood, for a temporary hospital. We 
tore out the pews and covered the floor with 
hay and quilts. There we laid the poor 
creatures side by side in rows, and the 
night was devoted to caring for them as 
best we could. Many were frightfully torn 
by pieces of shells, and the suffering was 
terrible. General Brooke placed me in charge 
and I had to do nearly all the work, for al 
though the army surgeons were more than 
ready to help as soon as their own men had 
been cared for, the tortured Indians would 
scarcely allow a man in uniform to touch 
them. Mrs. Cook, Miss Goodale, and several 
of Mr. Cook s Indian helpers acted as 
volunteer nurses. In spite of all our efforts, 
we lost the greater part of them, but a few 
recovered, including several children who 
had lost all their relatives and who were 
adopted into kind Christian families. 

On the day following the Wounded Knee 
massacre there was a blizzard, in the midst 
of which I was ordered out with several 
Indian police, to look for a policeman who 
was reported to have been wounded and 
left some two miles from the agency. We did 

The Ghost Dance War 

not find him. This was the only time during 
the whole affair that I carried a weapon; a 
friend lent me a revolver which I put in my 
overcoat pocket, and it was lost on the ride. 
On the third day it cleared, and the ground 
was covered with an inch or two of fresh 
snow. We had feared that some of the 
Indian wounded might have been left on 
the field, and a number of us volunteered to 
go and see. I was placed in charge of the 
expedition of about a hundred civilians, ten 
or fifteen of whom were white men. We 
were supplied with wagons in which to 
convey any whom we might find still alive. 
Of course a photographer and several re 
porters were of the party. 

Fully three miles from the scene of the 
massacre we found the body of a woman 
completely covered with a blanket of snow, 
and from this point on we found them 
scattered along as they had been relent 
lessly hunted down and slaughtered while 
fleeing for their lives. Some of our people 
discovered relatives or friends among the 
dead, and there was much wailing and mourn 
ing. When we reached the spot where the 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

Indian camp had stood, among the fragments 
of burned tents and other belongings we saw 
the frozen bodies lying close together or piled 
one upon another. I counted eighty bodies 
of men who had been in the council and who 
were almost as helpless as the women and 
babes when the deadly fire began, for nearly 
all their guns had been taken from them. A 
reckless and desperate young Indian fired 
the first shot when the search for weapons 
was well under way, and immediately the 
troops opened fire from all sides, killing 
not only unarmed men, women, and chil 
dren, but their own comrades who stood 
opposite them, for the camp was entirely 

It took all of my nerve to keep my com 
posure in the face of this spectacle, and of 
the excitement and grief of my Indian com 
panions, nearly every one of whom was 
crying aloud or singing his death song. 
The white men became very nervous, but 
I set them to examining and uncovering 
every body to see if one were living. Al 
though they had been lying untended in the 
snow and cold for two days and nights, a 

The Ghost Dance War 

number had survived. Among them I found 
a baby of about a year old warmly wrapped 
and entirely unhurt. I brought her in, and 
she was afterward adopted and educated by 
an army officer. One man who was severely 
wounded begged me to fill his pipe. When 
we brought him into the chapel he was 
welcomed by his wife and daughters with 
cries of joy, but he died a day or two 

Under a wagon I discovered an old woman, 
totally blind and entirely helpless. A few 
had managed to crawl away to some place of 
shelter, and we found in a log store near by 
several who were badly hurt and others who 
had died after reaching there. After we had 
dispatched several wagon loads to the agency, 
we observed groups of warriors watching us 
from adjacent buttes; probably friends of 
the victims who had come there for the same 
purpose as ourselves. A majority of our 
party, fearing an attack, insisted that some 
one ride back to the agency for an escort of 
soldiers, and as mine was the best horse, 
it fell to me to go. I covered the eighteen 
miles in quick time and was not interfered 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

with in any way, although if the Indians had 
meant mischief they could easily have 
picked me off from any of the ravines and 

All this was a severe ordeal for one who 
had so lately put all his faith in the Christian 
love and lofty ideals of the white man. Yet 
I passed no hasty judgment, and was thank 
ful that I might be of some service and 
relieve even a small part of the suffering. 
An appeal published in a Boston paper 
brought us liberal supplies of much needed 
clothing, and linen for dressings. We worked 
on. Bishop Hare of South Dakota visited 
us, and was overcome by faintness when he 
entered his mission chapel, thus transformed 
into a rude hospital. 

After some days of extreme tension, and 
weeks of anxiety, the "hostiles," so called, 
were at last induced to come in and submit 
to a general disarmament. Father Jutz, 
the Catholic missionary, had gone bravely 
among them and used all his influence toward 
a peaceful settlement. The troops were all 
recalled and took part in a grand review 
before General Miles, no doubt intended 

The Ghost Dance War 

to impress the Indians with their superior 

In March, all being quiet, Miss Goodale 
decided to send in her resignation and go 
East to visit her relatives, and our wedding 
day was set for the following June. 



"1 ?[ 7TIEN the most industrious and ad- 
* vanced Indians on the reservation, 
to the number of thousands, were ordered 
into camp within gunshot of Pine Ridge 
agency, they had necessarily left their homes, 
their live stock, and most of their household 
belongings unguarded. In all troubles be 
tween the two races, history tells us that the 
innocent and faithful Indians have been 
sufferers, and this case was no exception. 
There was much sickness from exposure, 
and much unavoidable sorrow and anxiety. 
Furthermore, the "war" being over, these 
\ loyal Indians found that their houses had 
been entered and pillaged, and many of 
their cattle and horses had disappeared. 

The authorities laid all this to the door 
of the "hostiles," and no doubt in some 
cases the charge may have been true. On 

War with the Politicians 

the other hand, this was a golden opportunity 
for white horse and cattle thieves in the 
surrounding country, and the ranch owners 
within a radius of a hundred miles claimed 
large losses also. Moreover, the Govern 
ment herd of "issue cattle" was found to be 
greatly depleted. It was admitted that 
some had been killed for food by those 
Indians who fled in terror to the "Bad 
Lands," but only a limited number could 
be accounted for in this way, and little of 
the stolen property was ever found. An in 
spector was ordered to examine and record 
these "depredation claims," and Congress 
passed a special appropriation of one hundred 
thousand dollars to pay them. We shall 
hear more of this later. 

I have tried to make it clear that there 
was no "Indian outbreak" in 1890-91, and 
that such trouble as we had may justly be 
charged to the dishonest politicians, who 
through unfit appointees first robbed the 
Indians, then bullied them, and finally in a 
panic called for troops to suppress them. 
From my first days at Pine Ridge, certain 
Indians and white people had taken every 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

occasion to whisper into my reluctant ears 
the tale of wrongs, real or fancied, committed 
by responsible officials on the reservation, or 
by their connivance. To me these stones 
were unbelievable, from the point of view of 
common decency. I held that a great 
government such as ours would never con 
done or permit any such practices, while 
administering large trust funds and standing 
in the relation of guardian to a race made 
helpless by lack of education and of legal 
safeguards. At that time, I had not dreamed 
what American politics really is, and I had 
the most exalted admiration for our noted 
public men. Accordingly, I dismissed these 
reports as mere gossip or the inventions of 

In March of 1891 I was invited to address 
the Congregational Club of Chicago, and 
on my arrival in the city I found to my sur 
prise that the press still fostered the illusion 
of a general Indian uprising in the spring. 
It was reported that all the towns adjoining 
the Sioux reservations had organized and 
were regularly drilling a home guard for 
their protection. These alarmists seemed 

War with the Politicians 

either ignorant or forgetful of the fact that 
there were only about thirty thousand Sioux 
altogether, or perhaps six thousand men of 
fighting age, more than half of whom had 
been civilized and Christianized for a genera 
tion and had just proved their loyalty and 
steadfastness through a trying time. Fur 
thermore, the leaders of the late "hostiles" 
were even then in confinement in Fort 
Sheridan. When I was approached by the 
reporters, I reminded them of this, and said 
that everything was quiet in the field, but 
if there were any danger from the ghost 
dancers, Chicago was in the most immediate 
peril ! 

Fortunately we had in the office of Com 
missioner of Indian Affairs at that time a 
sincere man, and one who was deeply in 
sympathy with educational and missionary 
work, General Morgan of Indiana. He was 
a lover of fair play, and throughout my fight 
for justice he gave me all the support within 
his power. As I have before intimated, I 
found at Pine Ridge no conveyance for the 
doctor s professional use, and indeed no 
medical equipment worthy the name. The 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

agency doctor was thrown entirely upon his 
own resources, without the support of col 
leagues, and there was no serious attempt at 
sanitation or preventive work. I had spent 
a good part of my salary, as well as funds 
contributed by friends for the purpose, in 
the purchase of suitable medical supplies 
and instruments. Finally, I boldly asked 
for a team and buggy, also a hospital for 
critical cases, with a trained nurse, and a 
house for us to live in. Somewhat to my 
surprise, all of these were allowed. I was 
ambitious to give efficient service, so far 
as it was possible, and I loved my work, 
though the field was too large and the sick 
were too many for one man to care for, and 
there were many obstacles in the way. One 
was the native prejudice, still strong, against 
the white man s medicine, and especially 
against any kind of surgical operation. 
The people were afraid of anaesthesia, and 
even in cases where life depended upon it, 
they had steadfastly refused to allow a 
limb to be amputated. If I so much as put 
on a plaster cast, I had no sooner left our 
temporary hospital than they took it off. 

War with the Politicians 

It may be of interest to tell how this 
prejudice was in part overcome. One day 
my friend Three Stars, a Christian chief, 
came in with his wife, who had dislocated 
her shoulder. "Can you help her?" he 
asked. "Yes," I said, "but I must first 
put her to sleep. You should have brought 
her to me last night, when it first happened, " 
I added, "and then that would not have 
been necessary." 

"You know best," replied Three Stars, 
"I leave it entirely with you." In the 
presence of a number of the wounded In 
dians, I administered a small quantity of 
chloroform and jerked the arm back into its 
socket. She came back to consciousness 
laughing. It appeared to them a miracle, 
and I was appealed to after that whenever 
I dressed a painful wound, to "give me some 
of that stuff you gave to Three Stars wife." 

Not long afterwards, I amputated the 
leg of a mixed blood, which had been terribly 
crushed, and he not only recovered perfectly 
but was soon able to get about with ease on 
the artificial limb that I procured for him. 
My reputation was now established. I had 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

gained much valuable experience, and in 
this connection I want to express my appre 
ciation of the kindness of several army sur 
geons with whom it was my pleasure to 
work, one of whom took my place during a 
six weeks leave of absence, when I went 
east to be married. 

I had some interesting experiences with 
the Indian conjurers, or "medicine men," 
to use the names commonly given. I would 
rather say, mental healer or Christian scien 
tist of our day, for the medicine man was 
all of that, and further he practised massage 
or osteopathy, used the Turkish-bath, and 
some useful vegetable remedies. But his 
main hold on the minds of the people was 
gained through his appeals to the spirits and 
his magnetic and hypnotic powers. 

I was warned that these men would 
seriously hamper my work, but I succeeded 
in avoiding antagonism by a policy of 
friendliness. Even when brought face to 
face with them in the homes of my patients, 
I preserved a professional and brotherly 
attitude. I recall one occasion when a 
misunderstanding between the parents of 

War with the Politicians 

a sick child had resulted in a double call. 
The father, who was a policeman and a 
good friend of mine, urgently requested me 
to see his child; while the frantic mother 
sent for the most noted of the medicine men. 

"Brother," I said, when I found him al 
ready in attendance, "I am glad you got 
here first. I had a long way to come, and 
the children need immediate attention." 

"I think so too," he replied, "but now that 
you are here, I will withdraw." 

"Why so? Surely two doctors should be 
better than one," I retorted. "Let us con 
sult together. In the first place, we must 
determine what ails the child. Then we 
will decide upon the treatment." He seemed 
pleased, and I followed up the suggestion of 
a consultation by offering to enter with him 
the sw r eat bath he had prepared as a means of 
purification before beginning his work. After 
that, I had no difficulty in getting his consent 
to my treatment of the patient, and in time 
he became one of my warm friends. It was 
not unusual for him and other conjurers to 
call at my office to consult me, or "borrow" 
my medicine. 


From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

I had some of the wounded in my care all 
winter. I remember one fine looking man 
who was severely injured ; a man of ordinary 
strength would have succumbed, but his 
strength and courage were exceptional, and 
best of all, he had perfect faith in my ability 
to restore him to health. All through those 
months of trial, his pretty young wife was 
my faithful assistant. Every morning she 
came to see him with her baby on her back, 
cheering him and inspiring us both to do our 
best. When at last he was able to travel, 
they came together to say good-bye. She 
handed me something, carefully wrapped in 
paper, and asked me not to open it until 
they had gone. When I did so, I found 
that she had cut off her beautiful long 
braids of hair and given them to me in token 
of her gratitude ! 

I was touched by this little illustration of 
woman s devotion, and happy in the thought 
that I was soon to realize my long dream 
to become a complete man ! I thought of 
little else than the good we two could do 
together, and was perfectly contented with 
my salary of twelve hundred dollars a year. 

War with the Politicians 

In spite of all that I had gone through, life 
was not yet a serious matter to me. I had 
faith in every one, and accepted civilization 
and Christianity at their face value a 
great mistake, as I was to learn later on. I 
had come back to my people, not to minister 
to their physical needs alone, but to be a 
missionary in every sense of the word, and 
as~T~was much struck with the loss of manli 
ness and independence in these, the first 
"reservation Indians" I had ever known, I 
longed above all things to help them to 
regain their self-respect. 

On June 18, 1891, I was married to 
Elaine Goodale in the Church of the As 
cension, New York City, by the Rev. Dr. 
Donald. Her two sisters were bridesmaids, 
and I had my chum in the medical school 
for best man, and two Dartmouth class 
mates as ushers. Many well known people 
were present. After the wedding breakfast 
in her father s apartments, we went to "Sky 
Farm," my wife s birth-place in the beautiful 
Berkshire hills, where she and her sister 
Dora, as little girls, wrote the "Apple 
Blossoms" and other poems. A reception 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

was given for us at Dorchester by Mr. and 
Mrs. Wood, and after attending the Wellesley 
College commencement, and spending a few 
days with my wife s family, we returned to 
the West by way of Montreal. At Flandreau, 
South Dakota, my brother John had gathered 
all the family and the whole band of Flan 
dreau Sioux to welcome us. There my 
father had brought me home from Canada, 
an absolute wild Indian, only eighteen years 
earlier! My honored father had been dead 
for some years, but my brothers had arranged 
to have a handsome memorial to him erected 
and unveiled at that time. 

Our new home was building when we 
reached Pine Ridge, and we started life 
together in the old barracks, while planning 
the finishing and furnishing of the new. It 
was ready for us early in the fall. I had 
gained permission to add an open fireplace 
and a few other homelike touches at my own 
expense. We had the chiefs and leading 
men to dine with us, and quite as often some 
of the humbler Indians and poor old women 
were our guests. In fact, we kept open 
house, and the people loved to come and 


War with the Politicians 

talk with us in their own tongue. My wife 
accompanied me on many of my trips now 
that I had a carriage, and was always pre 
pared with clean clothing, bandages, and 
nourishing food for my needy patients. 

There was nothing I called my own save 
my dogs and horses and my medicine bags, 
yet I was perfectly happy, for I had not only 
gained the confidence of my people, but that 
of the white residents, and even the border 
ranchmen called me in now and then. I 
answered every call, and have ridden forty 
or fifty miles in a blizzard, over dangerous 
roads, sometimes at night, while my young 
wife suffered much more than I in the anxiety 
with which she awaited my return. That 
was a bitterly cold winter, I remember, and 
we had only wood fires (soft wood) and no 
"modern conveniences"; yet we kept in 
perfect health. The year rolled around and 
our first child was born a little girl whom 
we called Dora. 

Meanwhile, though the troops had been 

recalled, we were under military agents ; 

there were several changes, and our relations 

were pleasant with them all. The time 


From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

came for the small annual payment of treaty 
money, and the one hundred thousand dollar 
payment for depredation claims, of which I 
have spoken, was also to be made by a 
special disbursing agent. This payment was 
not made by check, as usual, but in cash, 
and I was asked to be one of the three wit 
nesses. I told the special agent that, as I 
was almost constantly occupied, it would be 
impossible for me to witness the payment, 
which would take several days; but he 
assured me that if only one of the three were 
present at a time it would be sufficient, and, 
understanding my duties to be only nominal, 
I consented. 

I was in the office from time to time while 
the payment was going on, and saw the people 
sign their names, generally by mark, on the 
roll which had been prepared, opposite the 
amount which each was supposed to receive ; 
then a clerk at another desk handed each in 
turn a handful of silver and bills, and he 
passed out as quickly as possible. The 
money was not counted out to him, and he 
was given no chance to count it until he 
got outside. Even then, many could not 

War with the Politicians 

count it, and did not clearly understand 
how much it ought to be, while the traders 
and others were close at hand to get all or 
part of it without delay. 

Before I knew it, I was approached by 
one and another, who declared that they had 
not received the full amount, and I found 
that in numerous cases reliable persons had 
counted the cash as soon as the payees 
came out of the office. A very able white 
teacher, a college graduate, counted for 
several old people who were proteges of 
hers; an influential native minister did the 
same, and so did several others ; all reported 
that the amount was short from ten to fifteen 
per cent. When any one brought a shortage 
to the attention of the disbursing agent or 
his clerk, he was curtly told that he had 
made a mistake or lost some of the money. 

The complaints grew louder, and other 
suspicious circumstances were reported. 
Within a few days it was declared that an 
investigation would be ordered. The agent 
who had made the payment and immediately 
left the agency, being informed of the situa 
tion, came back and tried to procure affidavits 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

to show that it had been an honest payment. 
He urged me to sign, as one of the original 
witnesses, arguing that I had already com 
mitted myself. I refused. I said, "After 
all, I did not see the full amount paid to each 
claimant. As the payment was conducted, 
it was impossible for me to do so. I trusted 
you, therefore I allowed you to use my name, 
but I don t care to sign again." 

The regular agent in charge of our Indians 
at the time was, as I have said, an army 
officer, with military ideas of discipline. 
Like myself, he had been in the field much of 
the time while the payment was going on, 
but had officially vouched for its correctness 
and signed all the papers, and he took his 
stand upon this. He remonstrated with me 
for my position in the matter, and did his 
best to avoid an investigation; but I was 
convinced that a gross fraud had been com 
mitted, and in my inexperience I believed 
that it had only to be exposed to be corrected. 
I determined to do all in my power to secure 
justice for those poor, helpless people, even 
though it must appear that I was careless in 
signing the original papers. 

War with the Politicians 

I added my protest to that of others, 
and the department sent out a Quaker, an 
inspector whose record was excellent and 
who went about the work in a direct and 
straightforward way. He engaged a reliable 
interpreter, and called in witnesses on both 
sides. At the end of a fortnight, he reported 
that about ten thousand dollars had been 
dishonestly withheld from the Indians. A 
few of the better educated and more in 
fluential, especially mixed bloods, had been 
paid in full, while the old and ignorant had 
lost as high as fifteen or twenty per cent of 
their money. Evidence in support of this 
decision was sent to Washington. 

After a short interval, I learned with 
astonishment that the report of this trusted 
inspector had not been accepted by the 
Secretary of the Interior, who had ordered 
a second investigation to supersede the 
first. Naturally, the second investigation 
was a farce and quickly ended in "white 
washing" the special payment. The next 
step was to punish those who had testified 
for the Indians or tried to bring about an 
honest investigation in the face of official 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

opposition. Of these, I had been perhaps 
the most active and outspoken. 

The usual method of disciplining agency 
Indians in such a case is to deprive them of 
various privileges, possibly of rations also, 
and sometimes to imprison them on trivial 
pretexts. White men with Indian wives, 
and missionaries, may be ordered off the 
reservation as "disturbers of the peace," 
while with Government employees, some 
grounds are usually found for their dismissal 
from the service. 

I was promptly charged with "insubordina 
tion" and other things, but my good friend, 
General Morgan, then Commissioner, de 
clined to entertain the charges, and I, on 
my part, kept up the fight at Washington 
through influential friends, and made every 
effort to prove my case, or rather, the case 
of the people, for I had at no time any 
personal interest in the payment. The local 
authorities followed the usual tactics, and 
undertook to force a resignation by making 
my position at Pine Ridge intolerable. An 
Indian agent has almost autocratic power, 
and the conditions of life on an agency are 

War with the Politicians 

such as to make every resident largely 
dependent upon his good will. We soon 
found ourselves hampered in our work and 
harassed by every imaginable annoyance. 
My requisitions were overlooked or "for 
gotten," and it became difficult to secure 
the necessaries of life. I would receive a 
curt written order to proceed without delay 
to some remote point to visit a certain alleged 
patient; then, before I had covered the 
distance, would be overtaken by a mounted 
policeman with arbitrary orders to return 
at once to the agency. On driving in rapidly 
and reporting to the agent s office for details 
of the supposed emergency, I might be re 
buked for overdriving the horses, and charged 
with neglect of some chronic case of which I 
had either never been informed, or to which 
it had been physically impossible for me to 
give regular attention. 

This sort of thing went on for several 
months, and I was finally summoned to 
Washington for a personal conference. I 
think I may safely say that my story was 
believed by Senators Dawes and Hoar, and 
by Commissioner Morgan also. I saw the 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

Secretary of the Interior and the President, 
but they were non-committal. On my 
return, the same inspector who had white 
washed the payment was directed to investi 
gate the "strained relations" between the 
agent and myself, and my wife, who had 
meantime published several very frank letters 
in influential eastern papers, was made a 
party in the case. 

I will not dwell upon the farcical nature 
of this "investigation." The inspector was 
almost openly against us from the start, and 
the upshot of the affair was that I was 
shortly offered a transfer. The agent could 
not be dislodged, and my position had be 
come impossible. The superintendent of 
the boarding school, a clergyman, and one or 
two others who had fought on our side were 
also forced to leave. We had many other 
warm sympathizers who could not speak 
out without risking their livelihood. 

We declined to accept the compromise, 
being utterly disillusioned and disgusted 
with these revelations of Government mis 
management in the field, and realizing the 
helplessness of the best-equipped Indians 

War with the Politicians 

to secure a fair deal for their people. Later 
experience, both my own and that of others, 
has confirmed me in this view. Had it not 
been for strong friends in the East and on the 
press, and the unusual boldness and disregard 
of personal considerations with which we 
had conducted the fight, I could not have 
lasted a month. All other means failing, 
these men will not hesitate to manufacture 
evidence against a man s, or a woman s, 
personal reputation in order to attain their 

It was a great disappointment to us both 
to give up our plans of work and our first 
home, to which we had devoted much loving 
thought and most of our little means; but 
it seemed to us then the only thing to do. 
We had not the heart to begin the same thing 
over again elsewhere. I resigned my posi 
tion in the Indian service, and removed with 
my family to the city of St. Paul, where I 
proposed to enter upon the independent 
practice of medicine. 




A FTER thirty years of exile from the 
-** land of my nativity and the home of 
my ancestors, I came back to Minnesota 
in 1893. My mother was born on the shores 
of Lake Harriet; my great-grandfather s 
village is now a part of the beautiful park 
system of the city of Minneapolis. 

I came to St. Paul with very little money, 
for one can not save much out of one hundred 
dollars a month, and we had been compelled 
to sacrifice nearly all that we had spent on 
our little home. It was midwinter, and our 
baby daughter was only eight months old ; 
but our courage was good nevertheless. I 
had to wait for the regular state medical 
examination before being admitted to 
practice, as Minnesota was one of the first 
states to pass such a law, and the examina- 

Civilization as Preached and Practised 

tions were searching and covered three 
days time. If I remember rightly, there 
were some forty-five applicants who took 
them with me, and I was told that nearly 
half of them failed to pass. It was especially 
hard on country practitioners who had prac 
tised successfully for many years, but were 
weak in theory of medicine along certain 

Although a young couple in a strange city, 
we were cordially received socially, and 
while seriously handicapped by lack of 
means, we had determined to win out. I 
opened an office, hung out my sign, and 
waited for patients. It was the hardest 
work I had ever done ! Most of the time 
we were forced to board for the sake of 
economy, and were hard put to it to meet 
office rent and our modest living expenses. 
At this period I was peculiarly tried with 
various temptations, by yielding to which it 
seemed that I could easily relieve myself L(/ 
from financial strain. I was persistently j t 
solicited for illegal practice, and this by j 
persons who were not only intelligent, but 
apparently of good social standing. In 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

their fear of exposure, they were ready to go 
to large expense, and were astonished when 
I refused to consider anything of the sort. 
A large number came to me for Indian medi 
cine and treatment. I told them, of course, 
that I had no such medicine. Again, one 
of the best known "doctors" of this class 
in the Northwest invited me to go into 
partnership with him. Finally, a prominent 
business man of St. Paul offered to back me 
up financially if I would put up an "Indian 
medicine" under my own name, assuring me 
that there was "a fortune in it." 

To be sure, I had been bitterly disappointed 
in the character of the United States army 
and the honor of Government officials. Still, 
I had seen the better side of civilization, 
and I determined that the good men and 
women who had helped me should not be 
betrayed. The Christ ideal might be radical, 
visionary, even impractical, as judged in the 
light of my later experiences; it still seemed 
to me logical, and in line with most of my 
Indian training. My heart was still strong, 
and I had the continual inspiration of a 
brave comrade at my side. 

Civilization as Preached and Practised 

With all the rest, I was deeply regretful of 
the work that I had left behind. I could 
not help thinking that if the President knew, 
if the good people of this country knew, of 
the wrong, it would yet be righted. I had 
not seen half of the savagery of civilization ! 
While I had plenty of leisure, I began to 
put upon paper some of my earliest rec 
ollections, with the thought that our chil 
dren might some day like to read of that 
wilderness life. When my wife discovered 
what I had written, she insisted upon send 
ing it to St. Nicholas. Much to my surprise, 
the sketches were immediately accepted and 
appeared during the following year. This 
was the beginning of my first book, "Indian 
Boyhood," which was not completed until 
several years later. 

We were slowly gaining ground, when one 
day a stranger called on me in my office. 
He was, I learned, one of the field secretaries 
of the International Committee of Y. M. 
C. A., and had apparently called to discuss 
the feasibility of extending this movement 
among the Indians. After we had talked 
for some time, he broached the plan of putting 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

a man into the Indian field, and ended by 
urging me to consider taking up the work. 
My first thought was that it was out of the 
question to sacrifice my profession and 
practice at this juncture, when I was just 
getting a promising start. Then, too, I 
doubted my fitness for religious work. He 
still pressed me to accept, pointing out the 
far-reaching importance of this new step, 
and declared that they had not been able to 
hear of any one else of my race so well fitted 
to undertake it. We took the matter under 
consideration, and with some reluctance I 
agreed to organize the field if they would 
meantime educate a young Indian whom I 
would name to be my successor. I had in 
mind the thought that, when the man I 
had chosen should be graduated from the 
International Training School at Springfield, 
Massachusetts, I could again return to my 

I selected Arthur Tibbetts, a Sioux, who 
was duly graduated in three years, when I 
resigned in his favor. I had been unable to 
keep an office in St. Paul, where we made 
our home, but I carried my small medical 

Civilization as Preached and Practised 

case with me on all my trips, and was often 
appealed to by the Indians for my profes 
sional help. I traveled over a large part 
of the western states and in Canada, visiting 
the mission stations among Indians of all 
tribes, and organizing young men s asso 
ciations wherever conditions permitted. I 
think I organized some forty-three associa 
tions. This gave me a fine opportunity to 
study Protestant missionary effort among 
Indians. I seriously considered the racial 
attitude toward God, and almost uncon 
sciously reopened the book of my early 
religious training, asking myself how it 
was that our simple lives were so imbued 
with the spirit of worship, while much 
church-going among white and nominally 
Christian Indians led often to such very 
small results. 

A new point of view came to me then and 
there. This latter was a machine-made 
religion. It was supported by money, and 
more money could only be asked for on the 
showing made; therefore too many of the 
workers were after quantity rather than 
quality of religious experience. 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

I was constantly meeting with groups of 
young men of the Sioux, Cheyennes, Crees, 
Ojibways, and others, in log cabins or little 
frame chapels, and trying to set before them 
in simple language the life and character of 
the Man Jesus. I was cordially received 
everywhere, and always listened to with the 
closest attention. Curiously enough, even 
among these men who were seeking light on 
the white man s ideals, the racial philosophy 
emerged from time to time. 

I remember one old battle-scarred warrior 
who sat among the young men got up and 
said, in substance: "Why, we have followed 
this law you speak of for untold ages ! We 
owned nothing, because everything is from 
Him. Food was free, land free as sunshine 
and rain. Who has changed all this? The 
white man; and yet he says he is a be 
liever in God ! He does not seem to 
inherit any of the traits of his Father, 
nor does he follow the example set by his 
brother Christ." 

Another of the older men had attentively 
followed our Bible study and attended every 
meeting for a whole week. I finally called 

Civilization as Preached and Practised 

upon him for his views. After a long silence, 
he said : 

"I have come to the conclusion that this 
Jesus was an Indian. He was opposed to 
material acquirement and to great posses 
sions. He was inclined to peace. He w r as 
as unpractical as any Indian and set no 
price upon his labor of love. These are not 
the principles upon which the white man has 
founded his civilization. It is strange that 
he could not rise to these simple principles 
which were commonly observed among our 

These words put the spell of an uncom 
fortable silence upon our company, but it 
did not appear that the old man had in 
tended any sarcasm or unkindness, for after 
a minute he added that he was glad we had 
selected such an unusual character for our 

At the Crow agency I met a Scotchman, a 
missionary of fine type, who was doing good 
work. This man told me a strange story 
of his conversion. As a young man, he had 
traveled extensively in this and other coun 
tries. He spent one winter at Manitoba, 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

near an Indian reservation, and there he 
met a young Indian who had been converted 
by one of his own tribesmen, and was in 
tensely interested in the life of Christ. This 
young man was a constant reader in his 
Indian Bible, and he talked of Christ so 
eloquently and so movingly as to cause 
serious thought on the part of the traveler. 
To make a long story short, he finally went 
home to Scotland and studied for the min 
istry, and then returned to America to enter 
the field of Indian missions. It happened 
that the young Indian who made so deep 
an impression on his white friend was my 
own uncle, who had been baptized Joseph 

My two uncles who were in the Custer 
fight lived in Canada from the time of our 
flight in 1862, and both died there. I was 
happy to be sent to that part of the country 
in time to see the elder one alive. He had 
been a father to me up to the age of fifteen, 
and I had not seen him for over twenty 
years. I found him a farmer, living in a 
Christian community. I had sent word in 
advance of my coming, and my uncle s 

Civilization as Preached and Practised 

family had made of it a great occasion. All 
of my old playmates were there. My uncle 
was so happy that tears welled up in his 
eyes. "When we are old," he smiled, "our 
hearts are not strong in moments like this. 
The Great Spirit has been kind to let me 
see my boy again before I die." The early 
days were recalled as we feasted together, 
and all agreed that the chances were I 
should have been killed before reaching the 
age of twenty, if I had remained among 
them ; for, said they, I was very anxious 
to emulate my uncle, who had been a warrior 
of great reputation. Afterward I visited the 
grave of my grandmother, whose devotion 
had meant so much to me as a motherless 
child. This was one of the great moments 
of my life. 

Throughout this period of my work I was 
happy, being unhampered by official red 
tape in the effort to improve conditions 
among my people. The Superintendent of 
Indian Affairs in Manitoba was very kind 
and gave me every facility to go among the 
Indians. He asked me to make a compara 
tive report on their condition on both sides 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

of the border, but this I declined to under 
take, unwilling to prejudice the Government 
officials under whom I must carry on my 
work in the United States. 

Another trip took me among the Ojibways, 
who used to take many a Sioux scalp, while 
we prized an eagle feather earned in battle 
with them. But those who had actually 
engaged in warlike exploits were now old and 
much inclined toward a peaceful life. I 
met some very able native preachers among 
them. I also visited for the first time the 
"Five Civilized Tribes" of the Indian Ter 
ritory, now the state of Oklahoma. As is 
well known, these people intermarried largely 
among the whites, and had their own govern 
ments, schools, and thriving towns. When 
I appeared at Tahlequah, the Cherokee 
capital, the Senate took a recess in honor of 
their Sioux visitor. At Bacone College I 
addressed the students, and at the Cherokee 
male and female seminaries. It was an 
odd coincidence that at the latter school I 
found one of the young ladies in the act of 
reading an essay on my wife, Elaine Goodale 
Eastman ! 


Civilization as Preached and Practised 

Among other duties of my position, I was 
expected to make occasional speaking trips 
through the East to arouse interest in the 
work, and it thus happened that I addressed 
large audiences in Chicago, New York, 
Boston, and at Lake Mohonk. I was taken 
by slum and settlement workers to visit the 
slums and dives of the cities, which gave 
another shock to my ideals of "Christian 
civilization." Of course, I had seen some 
thing of the poorer parts of Boston during 
my medical course, but not at night, and 
not in a way to realize the horror and 
wretchedness of it as I did now. To be 
sure, I had been taught even as a child that 
there are always some evil minded men in 
every nation, and we knew well what it is 
to endure physical hardship, but our poor 
lost nothing of their self-respect and dignity. 
Our great men not only divided their last 
kettle of food with a neighbor, but if great 
grief should come to them, such as the death 
of child or wife, they would voluntarily give 
away their few possessions and begin life 

Iover again in token of their sorrow. We 
could not conceive of the extremes of luxury 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

and misery existing thus side by side, for it 
was common observation with us that the 
coarse weeds, if permitted to grow, will 
choke out the more delicate flowers. These 
P things troubled me very much; yet I still 
I held before my race the highest, and as y4t 
\ unattained, ideals of the white man. 
\ One of the strongest rebukes I ever re 
ceived from an Indian for my acceptance of 
these ideals and philosophy was administered 
by an old chief of the Sac and Fox tribe in 
Iowa. I was invited to visit them by the 
churches of Toledo and Tama City, which 
were much concerned by the absolute refusal 
of this small tribe to accept civilization and 
Christianity. I surmise that these good 
people hoped to use me as an example of the 
benefits of education for the Indian. 

I was kindly received at their village, and 
made, as I thought, a pretty good speech, 
emphasizing the necessity of educating their 
children, and urging their acceptance of the 
Christian religion. The old chief rose to 
answer. He was glad that I had come to 
visit them. He was also glad that I was 
apparently satisfied with the white man s 

Civilization as Preached and Practised 

religion and his civilization. As for them, 
he said, neither of these had seemed good 
to them. The white man had showed 
neither respect for nature nor reverence 
toward God, but, he thought, tried to buy 
God with the by-products of nature. He 
tried to buy his way into heaven, but he did 
not even know where heaven is. 

"As for us," he concluded, "we shall still 
follow the old trail. If you should live long, 
and some day the Great Spirit shall permit 
you to visit us again, you will find us still 
Indians, eating with wooden spoons out of 
bowls of wood. I have done." 

I was even more impressed a few minutes 
later, when one of his people handed me my 
pocket book containing my railway tickets 
and a considerable sum of money. I had 
not even missed it ! I said to the state 
missionary who was at my side, "Better let 
these Indians alone ! If I had lost my money 
in the streets of your Christian city, I should 
probably have never seen it again." 

My effort was to make the Indian feel that 
Christianity is not at fault for the white 
man s sins, but rather the lack of it, and I 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

freely admitted that this nation is not 
Christian, but declared that the Christians 
in it are trying to make it so. I found the 
facts and the logic of them often hard to 
dispute, but was partly consoled by the 
wonderful opportunity to come into close 
contact with the racial mind, and to refresh 
my understanding of the philosophy in 
which I had been trained, but which had 
been overlaid and superseded by a college 
education. I do not know how much good 
I accomplished, but I did my best. 




TV/TY work for the International Com- 
^ * mittee of Young Men s Christian 
Associations brought me into close associa 
tion with some of. the best products of 
American civilization. I believe that such 
men as Richard Morse, John R. Mott, Wilbur 
Messer, Charles Ober and his brother, and 
others, have through their organization and 
personal influence contributed vitally to the 
stability and well-being of the nation. 
Among the men on the International Com 
mittee whom I met at this time and who gave 
me a strong impression of what they stood 
for, were Colonel John J. McCook, David 
Murray, Thomas Cochrane, and Cornelius U 
Vanderbilt. I have said some hard things 
of American Christianity, but in these I 
referred to the nation as a whole and to the 
majority of its people, not to individual 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

Christians. Had I not known some such, 
I should long ago have gone back to the 

I wished very much to resume my pro 
fession of medicine, but I was as far as ever 
from having the capital for a start, and we 
had now three children. At this juncture, 
I was confronted by what seemed a hopeful 
opportunity. Some of the leading men of 
the Sioux, among them my own brother, 
Rev. John Eastman, came to me for a con 
sultation. They argued that I was the man 
of their tribe best fitted to look after their 
interests at Washington. They had begun 
to realize that certain of these interests 
were of great importance, involving millions 
of dollars. Although not a lawyer, they 
gave me power of attorney to act for them in 
behalf of these claims, and to appear as 
their representative before the Indian Bureau, 
the President, and Congress. 

After signing the necessary papers, I went 
to Washington, where I urged our rights 
throughout two sessions and most of a third, 
while during the summers I still traveled 
among the Sioux. I learned that scarcely 


At the Nation s Capital 

one of our treaties with the United States 
had been carried out in good faith in all of 
its provisions. After the early friendship 
treaties which involved no cession of land, 
the first was signed in 1824. By this agree 
ment the Sioux gave up a long strip of land 
lying along the west bank of the Mississippi, 
and including some of northern Missouri 
and eastern Iowa. Out of the proceeds, 
we paid several thousand dollars to the 
Iowa and Otoe Indians who inhabited this 
country conjointly with us. Next came the 
treaty ratified in 1837, by which we parted 
with all the territory lying in the southern 
part of Wisconsin, southeastern Minnesota, 
and northeastern Iowa. For this vast do 
main the Government gave us a few thousand 
dollars in money and goods, together with 
many promises, and established for us a trust 
fund of three hundred thousand dollars, 
upon which interest at five per cent was to 
be paid "forever." This treaty affected 
only certain bands of the Sioux. 

In 1851, we ceded another large tract in 
Iowa and Minnesota, including some of the 
best agricultural lands in the United States, 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

and for this we were to receive ten cents an 
acre. Two large trust funds were established 
for the four bands interested, on which inter 
est at five per cent was to be paid annually 
for fifty years. In addition, the Government 
agreed to furnish schools, farmers, black 
smith shops, etc. for the civilization of the 
Sioux. Only nine annual payments had 
been made when there was failure to meet 
them for two successive years. Much of 
our game had disappeared; the people 
were starving; and this state of affairs, 
together with other frauds on the part of 
Government officials and Indian traders, 
brought on the frightful "Minnesota massa 
cre" in 1862. After this tragedy, many of 
the Sioux fled into Canada, and the remnant 
were moved out of the state and on to a new 
reservation in Nebraska. Furthermore, the 
remaining annuities due them under the 
treaty were arbitrarily confiscated as a 
"punishment" for the uprising. It was the 
claim for these lost annuities, in particular, 
together with some minor matters, that the 
Indians now desired to have adjusted, and 
for which they sent me to the capital. 

At the Nation s Capital 

Now for the first time I seriously studied 
the machinery of government, and before I 
knew it, I was a lobbyist. I came to Wash 
ington with a great respect for our public 
men and institutions. Although I had had 
some disillusionizing experiences with the 
lower type of political henchmen on the 
reservations, I reasoned that it was because 
they were almost beyond the pale of civiliza 
tion and clothed with supreme authority 
over a helpless and ignorant people, that 
they dared do the things they did. Under 
the very eye of the law and of society, I 
thought, this could scarcely be tolerated. I 
was confident that a fair hearing would be 
granted, and our wrongs corrected without 
undue delay. I had overmuch faith in the 
civilized ideal, and I was again disappointed. 

I made up my mind at the start that I 
would keep aloof from the shyster lawyers, 
and indeed I did not expect to need any 
legal help until the matter should come before 
the Court of Claims, which could not be until 
Congress had acted upon it. 

At that time and I am told that it is much 
the same now an Indian could not do busi- 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

ness with the Department through his attor 
ney. The officials received me courteously 
enough, and assured me that the matters 
I spoke of should be attended to, but as 
soon as my back was turned, they pigeon 
holed them. After waiting patiently, I 
would resort to the plan of getting one of 
the Massachusetts Senators, who were my 
friends, to ask for the papers in the case, 
and this was generally effective. The 
Bureau chiefs soon learned that I had 
studied our treaty agreements and had 
some ground for any request that I might 
make. Naturally enough, every North 
western Indian who came to Washington 
desired to consult me, and many of them 
had come on account of personal grievances 
which I could not take up. Complaints of 
every description came to my ear, not from 
Indians alone, as some were from earnest 
white men and women who had served 
among the Indians and had come up against 
official graft or abuses. I could not help 
them much, and had to stick pretty closely 
to my main business. 

I was soon haunted and pestered by minor 

At the Nation s Capital 

politicians and grafters, each of whom 
claimed that he was the right-hand man of 
this or that congressman, and that my meas 
ure could not pass unless I had the vote of 
"his" man. Of course, he expected some 
thing in exchange for that vote, or rather 
the promise of it. Armed with a letter of 
introduction from one of my staunch eastern 
senatorial friends, I would approach a legis 
lator who was a stranger to me, in the hope 
of being allowed to explain to him the pur 
port of our measure. He would listen a 
while and perhaps refer me to some one else. 
I would call on the man he named, and to 
my disgust be met with a demand for a 
liberal percentage on the whole amount to 
be recovered. If I refused to listen to this 
proposal, I would soon find the legislator in 
question "drumming up" some objection 
to the bill, and these tactics would be kept 
up until we yielded, or made some sort of 
compromise. My brother John was with me 
in this work. He is a fine character-reader, 
and would often say to me on leaving some 
one s office, "Do not trust that man; he is 
dishonest; he will not keep his word." I 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

found after many months of effort, that 
political and personal feuds in Congress 
persistently delayed measures which I had 
looked upon as only common justice; and 
two of the injured bands have not received 
their dues to this day. 

I appeared from time to time before both 
House and Senate committees on Indian 
Affairs, and a few cases I carried to the 
President. In this way I have had personal 
relations with four Presidents of the United 
States, Harrison, Cleveland, McKinley, and 
Roosevelt. At one time I appeared before 
the committee of which Senator Allison of 
Iowa was chairman, on the question of 
allowing the Sisseton Sioux the privilege of 
leasing their unused allotments to neigh 
boring farmers, without first referring the 
agreements to the Secretary of the Interior. 
The point of the request was that the red 
tape and long delays that seem to be in 
separable from the system, greatly handi 
capped friendly and honest white farmers 
in their dealings with the Indians, and, as a 
result, much land lay idle and unbroken. 

Some one had circulated a rumor that this 

At the Nation s Capital 

measure was fathered by one of the South 
Dakota senators, with the object of securing 
some fine Indian lands for his constituents. 
As soon as I heard of this, I asked for a hearing, 
which was granted, and I told the committee 
that this was the Indians own bill. "We 
desire to learn business methods," I said, 
"and we can only do this by handling our 
own property. You learn by experience to 
manage your business. How are we Indians 
to learn if you take from us the wisdom that 
is born of mistakes, and leave us to suffer 
the stings of robbery and deception, with 
no opportunity to guard against its recur 
rence? I know that some will misuse this 
privilege, and some will be defrauded, but 
the experiment will be worth all it costs." 
Instead of asking me further questions upon 
the bill, they asked: "Where did you go to 
school ? Why are there not more Indians 
like you?" 

As I have said, nearly every Indian delega 
tion that came to the capital in those days 
and they were many appealed to me for 
advice, and often had me go over their 
business with them before presenting it. 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

I was sometimes with them when they had 
secured their hearing before the Indian 
Commissioner or the committees of Congress, 
and in this way I heard some interesting 
speeches. The Ojibways have much valu 
able pine land, aggregating millions of dollars. 
Congress had passed an act authorizing a 
special commissioner to dispose of the lumber 
for the Indians benefit, but the new man had 
not been long in office when it appeared 
that he was in with large lumber interests. 
There was general complaint, but as usual, 
the Indians were only laughed at, for the 
official was well entrenched behind the 
influence of the lumber kings, and of his 
political party. 

At last the Ojibways succeeded in bringing 
the matter before the House committee on 
Indian affairs, of which James Sherman of 
New York was chairman. The chief of 
the delegation addressed the committee 
somewhat as follows : 

"You are very wise men, since to you 
this great nation entrusts the duty of making 
laws for the whole people. Because of this, 
we have trusted you, and have hitherto 

At the Nation s Capital 

respected the men whom you have sent to 
manage our affairs. You recently sent one 
who was formerly of your number to sell 
our pines, and he is paid with our money, 
ten thousand dollars a year. It has been 
proved that he receives money from the 
lumber men. He has been underselling all 
others. We pray you take him away ! 
Every day that you allow him to stay, much 
money melts away, and great forests fall in 

Many good speeches lost their effect be 
cause of th^failure of the uneducated inter 
preter to render them intelligently, but in 
this instance a fine linguist interpreted for 
the chief, the Rev. James Gilfillan, for 
many years an Episcopal missionary among 
the O jib ways and well acquainted with 
their language and ways. 

The old men often amused me by their 
shrewd comments upon our public men. 
"Old Tom" Beveredge was the Indians 
hotel-keeper. They all knew him, and his 
house was the regular rendezvous. Some 
Sioux chiefs who had been to call on President 
Harrison thus characterized him : 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

Said Young Man Afraid of his Horses : 
"He is a man of the old trail; he will never 
make a new one ! " 

White Ghost said: "There is strong reli 
gious principle in him." 

Then American Horse spoke up. "The 
missionaries tell us that a man cannot have 
two masters ; then how can he be a religious 
man and a politician at the same time?" 

An old chief said of President McKinley : 
"I never knew a white man show so much 
love for mother and wife." "He has a bigger 
heart than most white men," declared Little- 
fish, "and this is unfortunate for him. The 
white man is a man of business, and has no 
use for a heart." 

One day, I found a number of the chiefs in 
the Senate gallery. They observed closely 
the faces and bearing of the legislators and 
then gave their verdict. One man they com 
pared to a fish. Another had not the atti 
tude of a true man ; that is, he held to a pose. 
Senator Morgan of Alabama they called a 
great councillor. Senator Hoar they esti 
mated as a patriotic and just statesman. 
They picked out Senator Platt of Connecticut 

At the Nation s Capital 

as being very cautious and a diplomat. They 
had much difficulty in judging Senator 
Tillman, but on the whole they considered 
him to be a fighting man, governed by his 
emotions rather than his judgment. Some 
said, he is a loyal friend ; others held the 
reverse. Senator Turpie of Indiana they 
took for a preacher, and were pleased with 
his air of godliness and reverence. Senator 
Frye of Maine they thought must be a rarity 
among white men honest to the core ! 

It was John Grass who declared that Grover 
Cleveland was the bravest white chief he 
had ever known. "The harder you press 
him," said he, "the stronger he stands." 

Theodore Roosevelt has been well known 
to the Sioux for over twenty-five years, 
dating from the years of his ranch life. He 
was well liked by them as a rule. Spotted 
Horse said of him, "While he talked, I forgot 
that he was a white man." 

During Mr. Roosevelt s second admin 
istration, there was much disappointment 
among the Indians. They had cherished 
hopes of an honest deal, but things seemed 
to be worse than ever. There were more 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

frauds committed; and in the way of legis 
lation, the Burke bill was distinctly a back 
ward step. The Dawes bill was framed in 
the interest of the Indians ; the Burke bill 
was for the grafters. Therefore there was 
much discouragement. 

I have been much interested in the point 
of view of these older Indians. Our younger 
element has now been so thoroughly drilled 
in the motives and methods of the white 
man, at the same time losing the old mother 
and family training through being placed 
in boarding school from six years of age on 
ward, that they have really become an 
entirely different race. 

During this phase of my life, I was brought 
face to face with a new phase of progress 
among my people of the Dakotas. Several 
of their reservations were allotted in severalty 
and the Indians became full citizens and 
voters. As the population of these new 
states was still small and scattered, the new 
voters, although few in number, were of 
distinct interest to the candidates for office, 
and their favor was eagerly sought. In some 
counties, the Indian vote held the balance of 

At the Nation s Capital 

power. Naturally, they looked to the best 
educated men of their race to explain to 
them the principles and platforms of the 
political parties. 

At first they continued to get together 
according to old custom, calling a council 
and giving a preliminary feast, at which 
two or three steers would be killed for a 
barbecue. After dinner, the tribal herald 
called the men together to hear the candi 
date or his representative. I took active 
part in one or two campaigns; but they 
have now a number of able young men who 
expound politics to them locally. 

Some persons imagine that we are still 
wild savages, living on the hunt or on rations ; 
but as a matter of fact, we Sioux are now fully 
entrenched, for all practical purposes, in the 
warfare of civilized life. 




TN the summer of 1910, I accepted a 
* commission to search out and purchase 
rare curios and ethnological specimens for 
one of the most important collections in 
the country. Very few genuine antiques 
are now to be found among Indians living 
on reservations, and the wilder and more 
scattered bands who still treasure them can 
not easily be induced to give them up. My 
method was one of indirection. I would 
visit for several days in a camp where I 
knew, or had reason to believe, that some 
of the coveted articles were to be found. 
After I had talked much with the leading 
men, feasted them, and made them pres 
ents, a slight hint would often result in the 
chief or medicine man "presenting" me with 
some object of historic or ceremonial interest, 
which etiquette would not permit to be 

Back to the Woods 

"sold," and which a white man would prob 
ably not have been allowed to see at all. 

Within the zone of railroads and auto 
mobiles there is, I believe, only one region 
left in which a few roving bands of North 
American Indians still hold civilization at 
bay. The great inland seas of northern 
Minnesota and the Province of Ontario are 
surrounded by almost impenetrable jungle, 
the immense bogs called "muskeggs" filled 
with tamaracks, and the higher land with 
Norway, white and "jack" pines, white and 
red cedar, poplar and birch. The land is 
a paradise for moose, deer and bears, as 
well as the smaller fur-bearers, and the 
glistening black waters are a congenial home 
for northern fish of all kinds, of which the 
sturgeon is king. The waterfowl breed there 
in countless numbers. There are blueberries 
and cranberries in abundance, while the 
staple cereal of that region, the full-flavored 
wild rice, is found in the inland bays by 
thousands of acres. 

Of this miniature world of freedom and 
plenty a few northern Ojibways, a branch 
of the great Algonquin race, are the present 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

inhabitants, living quite to themselves and 
almost unconscious of the bare pathos of 
their survival. Here the early French traders 
reaped their harvest, and for a century and a 
half the land was under the despotic rule of 
the Hudson Bay Company. A powerful 
forerunner of civilization, this company never 
civilized the natives, who, moreover, had 
heard the Black Robe" priests say their 
masses under the solemn shade of the Xor- 
way pines upon their island homes, long 
before Lewis and Clarke crossed the conti 
nent, and before many of the prairie tribes 
had so much as looked upon the face of the 
white man. Fortunately or unfortunately, 
the labyrinth in which they dwell has thus 
far protected them far more effectually than 
any treaty rights could possibly do from 
his almost indecent enterprise. 

I know of no Indians within the borders of 
the United States, except those of Leech, 
Cass and Red Lakes in Minnesota, who still 
sustain themselves after the old fashion by 
hunting, fishing and the gathering of wild 
rice and berries. They do, to be sure, have 
a trifle of annuity money from the sale of 

Back to the Woods 

their pine lands, and now and then they sell 
a few trinkets. Their permanent houses 
are of logs or frame, but they really do not 
live in them except during the coldest part 
of the year. Even then, some of them may 
be found far away from their villages, trap 
ping for furs, which may still be disposed of 
at convenient points along the Canadian 
border. They travel by canoe or on foot, 
as they own very few horses, and there are 
no roads through the forest only narrow 
trails, deeply grooved in the virgin soil. 

The Leech Lake Ojibways, to whom I 
made my first visit, appear perfectly con 
tented and irresponsible. They have plenty 
to eat of the choicest wild game, wild rice 
and berries. The making of maple sugar is 
a leading industry. The largest band and 
by far the most interesting is that which 
inhabits Bear Island, plants no gardens, 
will have nothing to do with schools or 
churches, and meets annually, as of old, for 
the "Grand Medicine Dance," or sacred 
festival, invoking the protection and blessing 
of the "Great Mystery" for the year to 


From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

I am a Sioux, and the Ojibways were once 
the fiercest of our enemies, yet I was kindly 
welcomed by the principal chief, Majigabo, 
who even permitted me to witness the old 
rites upon their "sacred ground." This 
particular spot, they told me, had been in 
use for more than forty years, and the 
moose-hide drum, stretched upon a cylinder 
of bass-wood, was fully as venerable. The 
dance-hall was about a hundred feet long, 
roofed with poles and thatch. In the center 
was a rude altar, and the entrance faced the 
rising sun. While the ceremonies went on, 
groups of young men were sitting in the 
shade and gambling with primitive dice 
small carved bones shaken in a polished bowl 
of bird s-eye maple. 

Majigabo is one of the few Indians left 
alive who has ventured to defy a great 
government with a handful of savages. 
Only a few years ago, Captain Wilkinson 
was shot down at the head of his troop, 
while advancing to frighten the Bear Islanders 
into obedience. The trouble originated in 
the illegal sale of whisky to the Indians. 
One of the tribesmen was summoned to 

Back to the Woods 

Duluth as a witness, and at the close of the 
trial turned loose to walk home, a distance 
of over a hundred miles. The weather was 
severe and he reached his people half-starved 
and sick from exposure, and the next time 
one was summoned, he not unnaturally 
refused to appear. After the death of 
Captain Wilkinson, no further attempt was 
made at coercion. 

"They can take everything else, but they 
must let me and these island people alone," 
the chief said to me, and I could not but 
sympathize with his attitude. Only last 
spring he refused to allow the census taker 
to enumerate his people. 

The next man I went to see was Boggimogi- 
shig. The old war chief of the Sugar Point 
band was one of those who most frequently 
went against the Eastern Sioux, and was 
often successful. This good fortune was 
attributed largely to the influence of the 
sacred war club, which had been handed 
down through several generations of daunt 
less leaders. I made use of the old-time 

Indian etiquette, as well as .oJLall_the wit 

and humor at my command, to win a wel- 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

come, and finally obtained from the old man 
the history and traditions of his people, so 
far as he knew them, and even the famous 
war club itself ! 

At Red Lake, I found the men just re 
turned from a successful moose hunt, and 
although they greeted me kindly, it appeared 
that some of the older warriors, recalling 
hand-to-hand scrimmages with my forbears, 
were somewhat embarrassed by the presence 
of a Sioux visitor. However, after I had 
been properly introduced, and had conformed 
with the good old customs relating to inter 
tribal meetings, I secured several things that 
I had come in search of, and among them 
some very old stories. It appears that a 
battle was once fought between Ojibways and 
Sioux near the mouth of the stream called 
Battle Creek, and while the waters of the 
stream ran with blood, the color was even 
discernible upon the shores of the lake, 
which has ever since been known as Red 
Lake. It was this battle, indeed, which 
finally decided the question of occupancy, 
for it is said that although my people suc 
ceeded for the time in holding off the Ojib- 

Back to the Woods 

ways, and cast many of the bodies of their 
dead enemies into the river, they lost so 
heavily themselves and became so dis 
heartened that they then left forever behind 
them their forest life and exchanged the 
canoe and birch-bark teepee for the prairie 
and the buffalo. 

But it is on Rainy Lake, remote and soli 
tary, and still further to the north and west 
upon the equally lovely Lake of the Woods, 
that I found the true virgin wilderness, the 
final refuge, as it appears, of American big 
game and primitive man. The international 
line at this point is formed by the Rainy 
River, lying deep in its rocky bed and 
connecting the two lakes, both of which are 
adorned with thousands of exquisite islands 
of a gem-like freshness and beauty. The 
clear, black waters have washed, ground and 
polished these rocky islets into every imag 
inable fantastic shape and they are all 
carpeted with velvety mosses in every shade 
of gray and green, and canopied with fairy- 
like verdure. In every direction one is 
beckoned by vistas of extraordinary charm. 

These aboriginal woodsmen are in type 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

quite distinct from the Plains Indians. 
They are generally tall and well-propor 
tioned, of somewhat lighter complexion than 
their brethren to the southward, and very 
grave and reticent. Their homes and food 
are practically those of two centuries ago, 
the only change observable being that the 
inconvenient blanket is for the most part 
discarded and the men carry guns instead of 
bows and arrows. 

It was the middle of August, the time for 
tying into bundles the wild rice straw, in the 
great bays where nature has so plentifully 
sown it. To each family belong its sheaves, 
and when the tying is finished, they are apt 
to linger in the neighborhood, the women 
making sacks while the men hunt. A month 
later comes the harvest. Two by two they 
go out in canoes, one to paddle, while the 
other seizes the bundle of rice straw and 
strikes a few smart blows with a stick. The 
ripe grain rattles into the canoe, which, 
when half full, is emptied on shore, and so 
on until the watery fields are cleared. 

I had now to follow these family groups to 
their hidden resorts, and the sweet roving 

Back to the Woods 

instinct of the wild took forcible hold upon 
me once more. I was eager to realize for a 
few perfect days the old, wild life as I knew 
it in my boyhood, and I set out with an 
Ojibway guide in his birch canoe, taking 
with me little that belonged to the white 
man, except his guns, fishing tackle, knives, 
and tobacco. The guide carried some In 
dian-made maple sugar and a sack of wild 
rice, a packet of black tea and a kettle, and 
we had a blanket apiece. Only think of 
pitching your tent upon a new island every 
day in the year ! Upon many a little rocky 
terrace, shaded by pine and cedar trees, 
hard by a tiny harbor with its fleet of birchen 
canoes, the frail bark lodges stood about in 
groups, looking as if they had grown there. 
Before each lodge there is a fireplace, and 
near at hand the women of the family may 
often be seen making nets and baskets, or 
cooking the simple meal. 

Early in the summer mornings there is a 
pleasant stir in camp, when they glide in 
canoes over the placid waters, lifting their 
nets full of glistening fish. Perhaps the 
sturgeon net is successful ; then laughter and 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

whoops of excitement break the stillness, 
for the king of the lake fights for his life 
and pulls the boat about vigorously before 
he is finally knocked on the head and towed 
into camp. 

Up on Seine Bay the favorite sport was 
hunting the loon, which scarcely ever takes 
to the wing, but dives on being approached. 
Most people would be put to it to guess in 
which direction he would reappear, at a dis 
tance of from a quarter to half a mile, but 
these sons of nature have learned his secret. 
As soon as he goes under, the canoes race 
for a certain point, and invariably the bird 
comes up among them. He is greeted with 
derisive laughter and cheers and immediately 
dives again, and the maneuver is repeated 
until he is winded and caught. The flesh of 
the loon has a strong, fishy flavor, but these 
Indians are very fond of it. With them noth 
ing goes to waste ; all meat or fish not needed 
for immediate use is cut into thin strips and 
smoked or dried; the hoofs of deer and 
moose are made into trinkets, the horns into 
spoons or tobacco boards, and the bones 
pounded to boil out the fat, which is pre- 

Back to the Woods 

served in dried bladders or bags of pelican 

At North Bay I heard of a remarkable old 
woman, said to be well over ninety years of 
age, the daughter of a long-time chief during 
the good old days. I called at her solitary 
birch-bark teepee, and found her out, but 
she soon returned bent under a load of bark 
for making mats, with roots and willow twigs 
for dye. She was persuaded to sit for her 
picture and even to tell some old stories of 
her people, which she did with much vivacity. 
There are less than a hundred of them left ! 

The name given to this ancient crone by 
the lumber-jacks is shockingly irreverent. It 
is told that when she was a handsome young 
woman, her father the ruling chief and hon 
ored by the Hudson Bay Company, more 
than one of its employees came courting after 
the fashion of those days. But the daughter 
of the woods could not endure the sight of a 
white man, with his repulsive hairy face. It 
seems that one day, when she was approached 
by a bearded voyageur, she screamed and 
raised her knife, so that the man fled, cursing 
her. Thereafter, whenever she saw a white 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

man, she would innocently repeat his oath, 
until she came to be known among them by 
that name. 

As we wound in and out of the island laby 
rinth, new beauties met us at every turn. 
At one time there were not less than eight 
moose in sight, and the deer were plentiful 
and fearless. As we glided through the 
water, the Ojibway repeated in his broken 
dialect some of their traditions. We passed 
" Massacre island," where, more than a hun 
dred years ago, some French traders are said 
to have brought the "fire water" to a large 
village of innocent natives, thinking thus to 
buy their furs for a trifle. But the Indians, 
when crazed with liquor, rose up and killed 
them all instead, even a Catholic priest 
who was unfortunately of the party. Since 
that day, the spirit of the "Black Robe", 
who died praying, is believed to haunt the 
deserted island, and no Indian ever sets 
foot there. 

Every day it became harder for me to 

leave the woods. Finally I took passage on 

a gasoline launch that plied between a lumber 

camp and the little city of International 


Back to the Woods 

Falls. The air had been dense with smoke 
all day because of immense forest fires on 
both sides of the lake. As it grew dark we 
entered a narrow channel between the islands, 
when the wind suddenly rose, and the pilot 
feared lest we should be blown from the 
only known course, for much of the lake is 
not charted. He swung about for the nearest 
islands, a cluster of three, knowing that only 
on one side of one of these was it possible to 
land. It was dark as pitch and raining hard 
when we were struck broad side on by a 
heavy wave ; the windows were knocked out 
and all the lights extinguished. 

There was nothing to do but jump and 
swim for it, and it seems almost a miracle 
that we all landed safely. There were just 
four of us playing Robinson Crusoe on a 
lovely little isle of about an acre in extent 
too small to harbor any game. The boat 
was gone with all its freight, except a few 
things that drifted ashore. Here we re 
mained for two nights and a day before we 
were discovered. 

This accident delayed me a day or two, as 
I had to buy another canoe and provisions 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

for my last plunge into the wilderness. It 
carried me up Seine Bay and into the Seine 
River. One day we came unexpectedly 
upon a little Indian village of neatly made 
bark houses in a perfect state of preservation, 
but to my surprise it was uninhabited. 
What was still stranger, I found that whoever 
lived there had left all their goods behind, 
dishes, clothing, even bundles of furs all 
moth-eaten and ruined. We reached there 
late in the afternoon, and I immediately de 
cided to stay the night. After supper, the 
guide told me that a band of Indians had 
lived here every winter for several years, 
hunting for the Hudson Bay Company. One 
winter many of their children were attacked 
by a disease unknown to them, and after 
several had died, the people fled in terror, 
leaving everything behind them. This 
happened, he said, eleven years before. 
While he was talking, beside the fire we had 
built in the rude mud chimney of one of the 
deserted cabins, in the perfectly still night, 
it all seemed weird and mysterious. Sud 
denly we heard a loud scratching on the bark 
door, as if some hand were feeling for the 

Back to the Woods 

latch. He stopped speaking and we looked 
at one another. The scratching was re 
peated. " Shall I open the door ? " I said. I 
had my hand on the trigger of my Smith and 
Wesson. He put more sticks on the fire. 
When I got the door open, there stood the 
biggest turtle I have ever seen, raised upon 
his hind feet, his eyes shining, his tail de 
fiantly lifted, as if to tell us that he was at 
home there and we were the intruders. 




IV/TY last work under the auspices of the 
*" "* Government was the revision of the 
Sioux allotment rolls, including the deter 
mination of family groups, and the assign 
ment of surnames when these were lacking. 
Originally, the Indians had no family names, 
and confusion has been worse confounded by 
the admission to the official rolls of vulgar 
nicknames, incorrect translations, and Eng 
lish cognomens injudiciously bestowed upon 
children in the various schools. Mr. Hamlin 
Garland and Dr. George Bird Grinnell 
interested themselves in this matter some 
years ago, and President Roosevelt foresaw 
the difficulties and complications in the way 
of land inheritance, hence my unique com 

My method was to select from the personal 
names of a family, one which should be rea- 

The Soul of the White Man 

sonably short, euphonious, and easily pro 
nounced by the white man in the vernacular ; 
or, failing this, a short translation in which 
the essential meaning should be preserved. 
All the brothers, their wives and children 
were then grouped under this as a family 
name, provided their consent could be ob 
tained to the arrangement. 

While fully appreciating the Indian s view 
point, I have tried to convince him of the 
sincerity of his white friends, and that con 
flicts between the two races have been due as 
much to mutual misunderstandings as to the 
selfish greed of the white man. These 
children of nature once had faith in man as 
well as in God. To-day, they would suspect 
even their best friend. A "century of dis 
honor" and abuse of their trust has brought 
them to this. Accordingly, it was rumored 
among them that the revision of names was 
another cunning scheme of the white man 
to defraud them of the little land still left 
in their possession. The older men would 
sit in my office and watch my work day after 
day, before being convinced that the under 
taking was really intended for their benefit 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

and that of their heirs. Once satisfied, they 
were of great assistance, for some of them 
knew by heart the family tree of nearly every 
Indian in that particular band for four genera 
tions. Their memories are remarkable, and 
many a fact of historic interest came up in 
the course of our discussions. 

Such names as "Young Man of whose 
Horses the Enemy is Afraid", "He Kills 
them on Horseback", and the like, while 
highly regarded among us, are not easily 
rendered into English nor pronounced in the 
Dakota, and aside from such troubles, I had 
many difficulties with questionable marriages 
and orphaned children whose ancestry was 
not clear. Then there were cases of Indian 
women who had married United States sol 
diers and the children had been taken away 
from the tribe in infancy, but later returned 
as young men and women to claim their 
rights in the tribal lands. 

I was directed not to recognize a plurality 
of wives, such as still existed among a few 
of the older men. Old White Bull was a 
fine example of the old type, and I well 
remember his answer when I reluctantly 

The Soul of the White Man 

informed him that each man must choose 
one wife who should bear his name. 
"What!" he exclaimed, "these two women 
are sisters, both of whom have been my 
wives for over half a century. I know the 
way of the white man ; he takes women un 
known to each other and to his law. These 
two have been faithful to me and I have 
been faithful to them. Their children are 
my children and their grandchildren are 
mine. We are now living together as brother 
and sisters. All the people know that we 
have been happy together, and nothing but 
death can separate us." 

This work occupied me for six years, and 
gave me insight into the relationships and 
intimate history of thirty thousand Sioux. 

My first book, "Indian Boyhood", em 
bodying the recollections of my wild life, 
appeared in 1902, and the favor with which 
it was received has encouraged me to attempt 
a fuller expression of our people s life from 
the inside. The present is the eighth that 
I have done, always with the devoted co 
operation of my wife. Although but one 
book, "Wigwam Evenings", bears both our 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

names, we have worked together, she in the 
little leisure remaining to the mother of six 
children, and I in the intervals of lecturing 
and other employment. For the past twelve 
years our home has been in a New England 
college town, and our greatest personal con 
cern the upbringing and education of our 

None of my earlier friends who knew me 
well would ever have believed that I was 
destined to appear in the role of a public 
speaker ! It may be that I shared the 
native gift of oratory in some degree, but I 
had also the Indian reticence with strangers. 
Perhaps the one man most responsible for 
this phase of my work, aside from cir 
cumstances, was Major James B. Pond of 
New York city, the famous lyceum manager. 
Soon after the publication of "Indian Boy 
hood ", I came from South Dakota to 
Brooklyn by invitation of the Twentieth 
Century Club of that city, to address them 
on the Indian. Major Pond heard of this 
and invited me to luncheon. He had my 
book with him, and after a good deal of 
talk, he persuaded me to go on the lecture 

The Soul of the White Man 

platform under his management. He took 
the most cordial interest in the matter, and 
himself prepared the copy for my first cir 
cular. His untimely death during the next 
summer put a damper upon my beginning ; 
nevertheless I filled all the dates he had 
made for me, and finding a growing demand, 
I have continued in the field ever since. 

My chief object has been, not to entertain, 
but to present the American Indian in his 
true character before Americans. The bar 
barous and atrocious character commonly 
attributed to him has dated from the transi 
tion period, when the strong drink, powerful 
temptations, and commercialism of the white 
man led to deep demoralization. Really it 
was a campaign of education on the Indian 
and his true place in American history. 

I have been, on the whole, happily sur 
prised to meet with so cordial a response. 
Again and again I have been told by recog 
nized thinkers, "You present an entirely 
new viewpoint. We can never again think 
of the Indian as we have done before/ A 
great psychologist wrote me after reading 
"The Soul of the Indian": "My God! 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

why did we not know these things sooner ? " 
Many of my hearers have admitted that 
morality and spirituality are found to thrive 
better under the simplest conditions than 
in a highly organized society, and that the 
virtues are more readily cultivated where the 
"struggle for existence" is merely a struggle 
with the forces of nature, and not with one s 

The philosophy of the original American 
was demonstrably on a high plane, his gift 
of eloquence, wit, humor and poetry is well 
established; his democracy and community 
life was much nearer the ideal than ours 
to-day ; his standard of honor and friendship 
unsurpassed, and all his faults are the faults 
of generous youth. 

It was not until I felt that I had to a degree 
established these claims, that I consented to 
appear on the platform in our ancestral garb 
of honor. I feel that I was a pioneer in this 
new line of defense of the native American, 
not so much of his rights in the land as of 
his character and religion. I am glad that 
the drift is now toward a better under 
standing, and that he is become the ac- 

The Soul of the White Man 

knowledged hero of the Boy Scouts and 
Camp Fire Girls, as well as of many artists, 
sculptors, and sincere writers. 

I was invited to represent the North 
American Indian at the First Universal 
Races Congress in London, England, in 1911. 
It was a great privilege to attend that gath 
ering of distinguished representatives of 
53 different nationalities, come together to 
mutually acquaint themselves with one an 
other s progress and racial ideals. I was 
entertained by some well known men, but 
there was little time for purely social en 
joyment. What impressed me most was 
the perfect equality of the races, which 
formed the background of all the dis 
cussions. It was declared at the outset 
that there is no superior race, and no in 
ferior, since individuals of all races have 
proved their innate capacity by their stand 
ing in the universities of the world, and it 
has not seldom happened that men of the 
undeveloped races have surpassed students 
of the most advanced races in scholarship 
and ability. 

One little incident caused some of the 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

delegates of the Asiatic peoples to approach 
me with a special friendliness. I was at a 
committee meeting where the platform of 
the Congress was being drafted, and as the 
first paragraph was read, I noticed that the 
word "Christian" appeared several times. 
I rose and said, "While I am myself a 
believer in the simple principles of Chris 
tianity, we who are met here are not all of 
that religion, and I would suggest that we 
substitute a term to which we can all sub 
scribe, since we meet here not in the name, 
but in the spirit of Christianity, of universal 
brotherhood." Several sprang up to second 
the motion, among them Mr. John Mil- 
holland and Dr. Felix Adler, and as I saw 
Mr. Edwin D. Mead of Boston near by, I 
began to feel more at home. I w T as invited 
by some oriental representatives present to 
visit them in their own country, but as I 
was tied up with Chautauqua engagements, 
I had to take the next boat for home. 

A very pleasant occasion of my meeting 

men and women distinguished in literature, 

was the banquet given to Mark Twain on 

his seventieth birthday. Another interest- 


The Soul of the White Man 

ing meeting was the dinner given by the 
Rocky Mountain Club of New York to fifteen 
western governors. I believe I was the only 
speaker there who was not a governor ! 
When I addressed the Camp Fire Club of 
America, composed largely of big game 
hunters in all parts of the world, I began 
by telling them that I had slept with a 
grizzly bear for three months, and often 
eaten with him, but had never thought of 
giving him away. They seemed to enter 
into my mood ; and when I went on to tell 
the old chief s story of the beaver woman 
with one hand (she had lost the other in a 
steel trap) and what she and her descendants 
did for the tribes of men and animals, as com 
pared with the harm wrought by the too 
hasty builders of a frontier town, I could 
not ask for a more sympathetic audience. 

It has been my privilege to visit nearly 
all sections of our country on lecture tours, 
including semi-tropical Florida and the Pacific 
coast, the great prairie states, and almost 
every nook and corner of picturesque New 
England. I have been entertained at most 
of our great colleges and universities, from 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

coast to coast, and had the honor of ac 
quaintance with many famous and interest 
ing people, among whom I might name al 
most at random, W. D. Ho wells, Hamlin 
Garland, Ernest Thompson Seton, Dr. George 
Bird Grinnell, authors ; Lorado Taft, sculp 
tor (at the unveiling of whose colossal Black 
Hawk I was privileged to officiate), Edwin W. 
Deming, Ernest Blumenschein, and other 
noted artists; Mine. Bloomfield Zeisler, 
pianist; John Hays Hammond, engineer; 
Presidents G. Stanley Hall, Ernest Fox 
Nichols, Eliot, Stryker, Harry Pratt Judson, 
Dr. Luther Gulick, and other noted educators ; 
Rabbi Stephen S. Wise, several bishops, and 
prominent clergymen of all denominations, 
together with a large circle not so well 
known to the public, but whose society has 
been to me equally stimulating and delight 

Like every one else who is more or less in 
the public eye, I have a large correspondence 
from unknown friends, and among the most 
inspiring letters received have been those 
from foreign countries, where, until the 
outbreak of the European war, I had not 

The Soul of the White Man 

only generous critics, but translators of 
my books in France, Germany, Austria, 
Bohemia, Denmark. I am frequently asked 
to recommend to readers books on all phases 
of Indian life and art, also to criticize such 
books both in print and in manuscript. 

My work for the Boy Scouts, whose pro 
gram appeals to me strongly, has given me a 
good deal of practice in camp management, 
finally leading to the organization of summer 
camps for both boys and girls on charming 
Granite Lake in the hills of southern New 
Hampshire, where my whole family are 
enthusiastic helpers in the development of 
this form of open-air education, patterned 
largely upon my own early training. 

From the time I first accepted the Christ 
ideal it has grown upon me steadily, but I 
also see more and more plainly our modern 
divergence from that ideal. I confess I 
have wondered much that Christianity is 
not practised by the very people who vouch 
for that wonderful conception of exemplary 
living. It appears that they are anxious to 
pass on their religion to all races of men, 
but keep very little of it themselves. I have 

From the Deep Woods to Civilization 

not yet seen the meek inherit the earth, or 
the peacemakers receive high honor. 

Why do we find so much evil and wicked 
ness practised by the nations composed of 
professedly "Christian" individuals? The 
pages of history are full of licensed murder 
and the plundering of weaker and less devel 
oped peoples, and obviously the world to-day 
has not outgrown this system. Behind the 
material and intellectual splendor of our 
civilization, primitive savagery and cruelty 
and lust hold sway, undiminished, and as it 
seems, unheeded. When I let go of my 
simple, instinctive nature religion, I hoped 
to gain something far loftier as well as more 
satisfying to the reason. Alas ! it is also 
more confusing and contradictory. The 
higher and spiritual life, though first in 
theory, is clearly secondary, if not entirely 
neglected, in actual practice. When I reduce 
civilization to its lowest terms, it becomes a 
system of life based upon trade. The dollar 
is the measure of value, and might still spells 
right; otherwise, why war? 

Yet even in deep jungles God s own sun 
light penetrates, and I stand before my own 

The Soul of the White Man 

people still as an advocate of civilization. 
Why? First, because there is no chance 
for our former simple life any more; and 
second, because I realize that the white 
man s religion is not responsible for his 
mistakes. There is every evidence that 
God has given him all the light necessary 
by which to live in peace and good-will with 
his brother; and we also know that many 
brilliant civilizations have collapsed in physi 
cal and moral decadence. It is for us to 
avoid their fate if we can. 

I am an Indian ; and while I have learned 
much from civilization, for which I am 
grateful, I have never lost my Indian sense 
of right and justice. I am for development 
and progress along social and spiritual lines, 
rather than those of commerce, nationalism, 
or material efficiency. Nevertheless, so long 
as I live, I am an American. 




Algonquin Indians, 92, 167. 

Allison, Senator William B., 

American Horse, 78; his 
pacific influence, 94, 95; 
interview with Eastman, 
96-99; 100, 162. 

Anaesthesia, Indian fear of, 
120; how Eastman over 
came it, 121. 

"Apple Blossoms", 86. 

Armstrong, General, 106. 

Arnold, Matthew, 72. 

Arnold Arboretum, 71. 

Assiniboine Indians, 4, 10. 

Assiniboine River, 10. 

"BAD LANDS", 93, 108. 
Bad Wound, 100. 
Bancroft, Edgar A., 58. 
Bartlett, President, 66. 
Battle Creek, 172. 
Bear Island, home of Leech 

Lake Ojibways, 169. 
Beloit College, Eastman 

enters, 50; life at, 51-58. 
Beveredge, Old Tom, 161. 
Bible, Eastman first hears 

reading of, 9. 
Big Foot, 102, 106, 108. 

"Big Issue" day at Pine 
Ridge Agency, 79, 80. 

Blackfeet Indians, 4. 

Black Hawk, 52, 56; figure 
of, 192. 

Blue Horse, old, 78. 

Blumenschein, Ernest, 192. 

Boggimogishig, Ojibway war 
chief, 171. 

Boston, Mass., Eastman s 
first impressions of, 64, 
65 ; 68 ; a medical student 
in, 70, 71; charm of, 71, 
72 ; 74, 90, 147. 

Boston University, studies 
medicine at, 71. 

Boy Scouts, 189; interest 
in work of, 193. 

Brooke, General, negotiations 
with Ghost Dancers, 103; 
107; efforts to maintain 
peace with Indians, 108; 
places Eastman in charge 
of wounded Indians, 110. 

Brooklyn, N. Y., 186. 

Buffalo Bill, 78. 

Burke Bill, the, 164. 


Camp Fire Girls, 189. 



Cass Lake, 168. 
Chapin, President, 52, 56. 
Cherokee Indians, 146. 
Cheyenne Indians, 49, 142. 
Cheyenne River Agency, 102. 
Chicago, 111., 47, 62, 63, 118, 


Christ, 8, 71, 142-144, 193. 
Christianity, 10, 33, 57, 59, 

70, 71, 85, 125, 141, 144, 

148, 151, 190, 193, 194. 
Church of the Ascension, 

New York, Eastman s 

marriage in, 125. 
Clemens, Samuel L., "Mark 

Twain ", 190. 
Cleveland, President Grover, 

158; an Indian s opinion 

of, 163. 

Cochrane, Thomas, 151. 
Commissioner of Indian 

Affairs, 119. 
Congregational Club of 

Chicago, address before 

the, 118. 
Congress of Races. See 

Congress of the United 

States, 155, 156, 160. 
Cook, Mrs. Charles Smith, 

85, 109, 110. 
Cook, Rev. Charles Smith, 

Eastman s first meeting 

with, 85 ; 88, 98, 104, 109, 


Court of Claims, 155. 
Craft, Father, 107. 
Crazy Horse, 30. 
Cree Indians, 4, 142. 

Crook, General, 78. 
Crow Indians, 4, 143. 
Custer, General, 30, 53. 

man enters, 61 ; his life 
and activities at, 65-70; 
72; graduation at, 74. 

Davenport, la., 15. 

Dawes, Senator H. L., 133. 

Dawes Bill, the, 164. 

Deming, Edwin W., 192. 

Devil s Lake, N. D., 9. 

Donald, Rev. Dr. Winchester, 
Eastman married by, 125. 

Dorchester, Mass., 126. 

Drink evil, 9, 10, 170, 178, 

training, 1 ; feeling toward 
tribal foes, 2; betrayal 
and capture of his father, 
3; early cause of hatred 
for United States, 3; as a 
youth with the Sioux, 4-6 ; 
turning-point in his life, 
6-8 ; his father s influence, 
8, 9; return with his 
father to the United States, 
9-13; a narrow escape, 
11, 12; on his father s 
farm, 14-16; starts his 
schooling, 16-30; goes to 
Santee, 31-40; experiences 
at Santee, 40-50; letter 
from his father, 48; earns 
his first money, 49 ; prog 
ress in his studies, 49, 
50 ; death of his father, 50 ; 





goes to Beloit College, 51 ; 
first ride on railroad, 51 ; 
life at Beloit, 51, 58; life 
at Knox College, 58-60; 
choice of a profession, 60; 
starts for the East, 61; 
the journey, 61-65; in 
Boston, 64 ; at Dartmouth 
College, 65-74; reflections 
and ambitions, 65; pre 
pares at Kimball Union 
Academy, 66, 67; enters 
Dartmouth, 67; humorous 
athletic incident, 67 ; 
broadening views, 68, 69; 
interest in literature and 
history, 69; summer busi 
ness experiences, 69, 70; 
reverence for New Eng 
land, 70; high ideals, 71; 
life in Boston, 71, 74; 
acquaintance with emi 
nent men, 72; lectures at 
Wellesley College, 72; 
views on social life, 72, 
73; graduation at Dart 
mouth, 74 ; appointed 
government physician at 
Pine Ridge Agency, 74; 
attends Lake Mohonk con 
ference, 75 ; arrival at 
Pine Ridge Agency, 76; 
meager accommodations, 
76, 77; "Big Issue" day. 
79, 80; first learns of 
Ghost Dance, 82-85; an 
evening with Rev. Charles 
S. Cook, 85. 86; first 

meeting with his future 
wife, 86; busy life at the 
Agency, 87; a second 
warning of the Ghost 
Dance, 87-89; an accept 
able present, 90; a word 
of caution, 90, 91 ; an 
exciting incident and a 
brave admonition, 93-95 ; 
advice concerning the 
Ghost Dance, 96, 98 ; cause 
of Sioux unrest, 98, 99; 
anxiety at the Agency, 99, 
100; arrival of the troops, 
101 ; wild rumors and 
excitement, 102, 103 ; prep 
arations for Christmas, 
103, 104 ; engagement to 
Miss Goodale, 106; dis 
turbing news from the " Bad 
Lands", 107, 108; trouble 
narrowly averted, 108, 109 ; 
caring for the wounded, 
109, 110; search for the 
wounded after the mas 
sacre, 110-114; distressing 
experience and a severe 
ordeal, 113, 114; quiet 
restored, 114; property 
losses of the Indians, 116, 
117; address in Chicago, 
118, 119; friendship of the 
Indian Commissioner, 119; 
demands for proper equip 
ment, 120; prejudice of 
the Indians, 120, 121 ; fear 
of anaesthesia and ampu 
tation and its removal, 121 ; 
experience with "medicine 
men". 122, 123; a touch- 





ing tribute, 124; marriage 
in New York, 125; the 
new home, 126; birth 
of his first child, 127; 
dishonesty in payment to 
Indians, 128-130; pro 
test to Washington, 131; 
a farcical investigation, 
131 ; strained relations 
with Indian bureau, 132, 
133; summoned to Wash 
ington, 133; leaves the 
Indian service, 135 ; re 
moves to St. Paul, Minn., 
135 ; warm social welcome, 
137; temporary hard 
ships, 137 ; professional 
temptations, 137, 138 ; dis 
appointment in official 
character, 138; regret for 
abandoned work, 139; con 
tributions to St. Nicholas, 
139; field service for Y. M. 
C. A., 139-141; extended 
travel, 141 ; reflections on 
religion, 141; Indian phi 
losophy, 142, 143; a 
Scotchman s story, 143, 
144; visits his uncle in 
Canada, 144, 145; among 
the Ojibways, 146; in 
Indian Territory, 146 ; ad 
dress at Bacone College, 
146 ; speaking tours in the 
East, 147; depressed by 
poverty of the slums, 147; 
visits the Sac and Fox 
tribe, 148; an old chief s 

rebuke, 148, 149; efforts 
to Christianize the Indians, 
150 ; association with lead 
ing men, 151 ; representa 
tive of Sioux tribe in 
Washington, 152-165 ; ces 
sions by and treaties with 
the Sioux, 153, 154; bad 
faith of the government, 
154 ; trials of Washington 
life, 155-157; before Con 
gressional committees, 158 ; 
relations with four Presi 
dents, 158 ; arduous duties, 
158-160; Indian views of 
officials, 160-163 ; new 
phase of Indian life, 164; 
Indian political influence, 
164, 165 ; search for Indian 
curios and relics, 1 66-181 ; 
methods of search, 166; 
his reception by former 
enemies, 1 70 ; witnesses 
ancient ceremonies, 170; 
visits Boggimogishig, 171 ; 
the Sugar Point Ojibways, 
171; with the Red Lake 
Ojibways, 172; at Rainy 
Lake, 173; a fine type of 
Indian, 173, 174 ; har 
vesting wild rice, 174; 
the call of the wild, 175; 
hunting the loon, 176; its 
curious maneuvers, 176; 
an interesting aged squaw, 
177 ; a narrow escape from 
drowning, 179; the de 
serted village, 180; a 
strange visitor, 181 ; last 
work for the government. 





182; the Sioux allotment 
rolls, 182; confusion of 
Indian names, 182 ; 
method of work, 183; 
overcoming prejudice, 183; 
remarkable memory of the 
Indian, 184 ; difficulties 
of the work, 184 ; publica 
tion of "Indian Boyhood" 
in 1902, 185; "Wigwam 
Evenings", 185; writing 
in collaboration with Mrs. 
Eastman, 185, 186; as a 
public speaker, 186 ; enters 
the lecture field, 187; 
the object in view, 187; 
a cordial response, 187; 
an opinion of "The Soul 
of the Indian", 187, 188; 
the Indian s philosophy, 
188; representative to the 
First Universal Races Con 
gress, London, 1911, 198; 
impressions of the Con 
gress, 189; an incident 
of the Congress, 190; an 
invitation from the Orient, 
190; at banquet to Mark 
Twain, 190; unique ap 
pearance as a speaker, 191 ; 
before the Camp Fire Club, 
191 ; extended traveling, 
191, 192; large acquaint 
ance with noted personages, 
192; voluminous and in 
spiring correspondence, 
192; interest in the work 
of Boy Scouts, 193 ; camps 

for boys and girls, 193; 
belief in the Christ ideal, 
193 ; views of Christianity, 
193, 194; reflections on 
the higher life, 194; his 
stand for civilization, 195 ; 
belief in Indian sense of 
right and justice, 195 ; an 
American to the end, 195. 

Eastman, Mrs. Charles A. 

Eastman, Dora, eldest child 
of Charles A. Eastman, 
127, 136. 

Eastman, Rev. John, brother 
of Charles A. Eastman, 40, 
44; welcomes his brother 
on return from his wedding, 
126; 152. 

Eastman, Joseph, uncle of 
Charles A. Eastman, 144. 

Eliot, President Charles W., 

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 72. 


"Five Civilized Tribes ", 146. 

Flandreau, 13; Many Light 
nings forms colony at, 16; 
31 ; death of Many 
Lightnings at, 50; family 
gathering in, 126. 

Forbes, Major, 9, 10. 

Forsythe, Colonel, 106. 

Fort Robinson, 98. 

Fort Sheridan, 119. 

Fort Snelling, 3. 

Fort Yates, 102. 



Four Bears, 99. 

Freeman, President Alice, 72. 

Frye, Senator William P., 163. 


Garland, Hamlin, 182, 192. 

Ghost Dance, the origin of 
the, 83, 84; its hold on 
the Indians, 84; rapid 
spread of the, 88; 89; 
foreign to the Indian phi 
losophy, 92; seat of the 
trouble, 93; aggravated by 
presence of troops, 98; 
its natural death, 99; 
negotiations with its vota 
ries, 103. 

Gilfillan, Rev. James, 161. 

Goodale, Dora, 125. 

Goodale, Elaine (Mrs. Charles 
A. Eastman), supervisor 
of Indian Schools, 86; 
first meeting with East 
man, 86; 89; ancestry 
and early life, 105; takes 
up work for Indians, 106; 
her engagement, 106; 
faithfulness to duty, 109; 
duties as a nurse, 110; 
resigns from the Indian 
service, 115; her marriage, 
125 ; at " Sky Farm ", 125 ; 
birth of her daughter, 127; 
strained relations with In 
dian bureau, 134; 146; 
literary work in collabora 
tion with husband, 185. 

Graham, George, assistant at 
Pine Ridge Agency, 87 ; cau 
tions Eastman, 90 ; 93, 101. 

"Grand Medicine Dance," 

Grass, John, his opinion of 

Grover Cleveland, 163. 
"Great Mystery", 9, 12, 

20, 24, 26, 28, 32, 40, 41, 


"Great Spirit", 145, 149. 
Griffis, Rev. William Eliot, 

Grinnell, George Bird, 182, 


Gros Ventres Indians, 4. 
Gulick, Luther Halsey, 192. 


Hammond, John Hays, 192. 

Hampton Institute, 106. 

Hare, Bishop, 75, 114. 

Harney, General, 78. 

Harriet, Lake, 136. 

Harrison, President Ben 
jamin, 158, 161. 

He Dog, 99. 

Hemenway, Mrs., 72. 

Hoar, Senator George F., 
133, 162. 

Hole-in-the-Hill, 32. 

Homestead laws, 14. 

Ho wells, William Dean, 192. 

Hudson Bay Company, 4, 
168, 177, 180. 

Independent, The, 86. 

Indian Affairs, Commissioner 
of, 119. 

"Indian Boyhood", East 
man s account of his child 
hood and youth in, v; 
publication of, 185; 186. 



Indian Police at Pine Ridge 

Agency, 82, 85, 88, 93- 

97, 108, 110. 
Indian sense of right and 

justice, Eastman s belief 

in, 195. 

Indian Territory, 146. 
International Committee of 

Y. M. C. A. See Y. M. 


International Falls, 178. 
I nternational Training School , 

Springfield, Mass., 140. 
Iowa Indians, 153. 

"JACK FROST", Eastman s 

horse at Pine Ridge, 90. 
Jack Red Cloud, 95, 99. 
Jamestown, N. D., 13. 
Jesus. See CHRIST. 
Judson, H. P., 192. 
Jutz, Father, 104, 114. 

KICKING BEAR, 84, 99. 
Kimball Union Academy, 66, 

Knox College, Eastman 

enters, 58, 59. 


Lee, Colonel, 89, 90. 

Leech Lake, 168. 

Lewis and Clarke expedition, 

Lincoln, President Abraham, 

Littlefish, 162. 

Longfellow, Henry Wads- 
worth, 72. 

McCLURE, S. S., 58. 

McCook, Colonel John J., 

McKinley, President Wil 
liam, 158, 162. 

Majigabo, Ojibway chief, 
170; defies the govern 
ment, 170. 

Mandan Indian, 41, 42. 

Manitoba, 145. 

Many Lightnings, Eastman s 
father, 6; his conversion, 
7 ; describes advantages 
of civilized life, 7, 8; re 
turns to United States 
with son, 9 ; Bible reading, 
9 ; his farm, 14 ; forms 
Indian colony at Flan- 
dreau, 16; sends son to 
school, 16, 17; his logic, 
25 ; advice to his son, 27 ; 
his views of religion and 
education, 28, 29; sends 
son to Indian mission at 
Santee, 30; letter to son, 
48; his death, 50. 

Mark Twain. See CLEM 

Massacre Island, 178. 

Mead, Edwin D., 190. 

Medicine, Indian, 122, 123, 
138, 169. 

Medicine, study of, 60, 71. 

Medicine Root Creek, 92. 

Messer, Wilbur, 151. 

Messiah of the Ghost Dance 
religion, 83. 

Miles, General Nelson A., 

Milholland, John, 190. 



Minneapolis, Minn., 136. 

Minnesota, 3, 136, 153, 167. 

Minnesota Massacre, 3. 

Missouri River, 4, 43, 139. 

Mohonk, Lake, 75, 147. 

Moody, Dwight L., 74. 

Morgan, General, Commis 
sioner of Indian Affairs, 
119, 132, 133. 

Morgan, Senator JohnT., 162. 

Morse, Richard, 151. 

Mott, John R., 151. 

Murray, David, 151. 

Music, 37. 

NEW YORK, N. Y., 125, 147. 
Nichols, Ernest Fox, 192. 
Ninth Cavalry, 101. 
North Bay, 177. 
Northern Cheyenne Indians, 


Northfield, Mass., 74. 
No Water, 99. 


Occum, Samson, 65, 69. 

O-hee-ye-sa, Eastman s In 
dian name, 16. 

Ojibway Indians, 10-12, 142, 
146, 160, 161, 167, 169, 
170, 172, 175, 178. 

Oklahoma, 146. 

Old Pine Tree, 69. 

Old White Bull, 184. 

Otoe Indians, 153. 

Parkman, Francis, 72. 
Pettibone, Professor, 53. 
Phillips, John S., 58. 

Philosophy of the Indian, 142, 

143, 188. 

Pinckney, Judge Merritt, 58. 
Pine Ridge Agency, S. D., 

74, 76-135. 

Platt, Senator O. H., 162. 
Pond, James B., 186, 187. 
Pontiac, 72. 
Protestant, 7, 41. 


Rainy Lake, 173. 

Rainy River, 173. 

"Red Christ", the, 92. 

Red Cloud, 100. 

Red Lake, 168, 172. 

Riggs, Dr. Alfred L., superin 
tendent of Santee school, 
40 ; introduces Eastman 
to school routine, 42, 43; 
his personality, 48; sends 
Eastman to Beloit College, 
50; transfers Eastman to 
Knox College, 58; pro 
poses that Eastman enter 
Dartmouth College, 61. 

Rock River, 52. 

Roosevelt, President Theo 
dore, 158; Indian admira 
tion for, 163; foresees 
difficulties of Indian land 
inheritance, 182. 

Rushville, Neb., 101. 



St. Nicholas, magazine, 139. 
St. Paul, Minn., Eastman 

removes to, 135 ; residence 

in, 136-140. 



Santee, Neb., Eastman enters 
Indian school at, 31; life 
at, 31-50. 

Seabury Divinity School, 

Sears, Major, 40. 

Seine Bay, 176, 180. 

Seine River, 180. 

Seton, Ernest Thompson, 

Seventh Cavalry, 106, 109. 

Shawmut Congregational 
Church, Boston, 71. 

Sherman, James, 160. 

Sioux Indians, protest of, 
3; outbreak of the, 3; 
Eastman member of 
Wah peton clan of, 4 ; 
their friends and enemies, 
4 ; country and habits of, 
4, 5; 11, 12, 25; pop 
ularity of Santee Agency 
with, 30; 33; Custer 
annihilated by, 53 ; 
settler s fear of, 56, 57; 
Eastman s ambition to aid, 
60 ; curiosity regarding 
the, 63; 65, 68; one of 
first army scouts of the, 
78 ; gay dress of a "belle" 
of the, 79; "Big Issue" 
day with, 79-81; their 
idea of medical treatment, 
81 ; ghost dance war with, 
82-115; grievances of, 98; 
frauds practised on, 99; 
Miss Goodale s work 
among, 106 ; Eastman s 
missionary efforts with, 
142; 146; Eastman rep 

resentative in Washington 
for, 152; cessions by and 
treaties with, 153; bad 
faith of government with, 
154 ; Eastman pleads for, 
158; old chiefs of the, 
161-165; Roosevelt popu 
lar with, 163; political 
influence of, 164, 165; 
famous battle with, 172; 
Eastman revises allotment 
rolls of, 182; confusion of 
names of, 182-185. 

Sioux language, 40, 48, 49. 

Sisseton Sioux. See Sioux 

Sitting Bull, 30, 49, 53, 63. 
83, 102, 107. 

"Sky Farm", 125. 

Slow Bull, 84. 

"Soul of an Indian, The", 

South College, Beloit, 52. 

Spirit-water, 29. 

Spotted Horse, 163. 

Stryker, M. W., 192. 

Sunday, Billy, 99. 

Sword, Captain, police chief 
at Pine Ridge, 82, 83, 
87, 88, 96-98. 

Tahlequah, Ind. Ter., 146. 
Tecumseh, 92. 
Three Stars, 100, 121. 
Thunder Bear, Lieutenant, 

96, 98. 

Tibbetts, Arthur, 140. 
Tillman, Senator Benjamin 

R., 163. 



Trinity College, 85. 
Turpie, Senator, 163. 
Twentieth Century Club of 
Brooklyn, 186. 


Washington, D.C.. 131, 132, 

133, 152, 155. 
Webster, Daniel, 69. 
Wellesley College, 72, 126. 
Welsh, Herbert, 75. 
Whipple, Bishop, 75, 100. 
White Clay Creek, 93, 101. 
White Ghost, 162. 
Whiteside, Major, 106. 
"Wigwam Evenings", 185. 
Wilkinson, Captain, 170, 171. 
Williamson, Dr. John P., 48. 
Wise, Rabbi Stephen S., 192. 

Wood, Frank, Eastman s in 
debtedness to, 71, 72; 
work for, 75 ; Eastman 
entertained by, 126. 

Wood, Mrs. Frank, 71, 72, 

Wounded Knee Creek, 106, 

Wounded Knee Massacre, 

Y. M. C. A., Eastman under 
takes field work for, 139, 
140; his work with, 151. 

Yankton City, 51. 

Yellow Bear, 99. 

Young Man Afraid of his 
Horses, 100, 162. 

FIELD, 192. 


198 Main Stacks 

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